More
by Melibells
Summary: He just got her back. Things were pretty much back to normal, and then he kissed her. He thought he messed up, screwed up their friendship beyond repair. That was until she slips in through his window wanting more. Re-interpretation of Fullbring Arc *TEMPORARY HIATUS- Under construction ;) *
1. Chapter 1

I seem to be in a Bleach-y mood lately. If I'm not reading Bleach, I'm watching it. If I'm not watching it, I'm making fan-art. If I'm not making fan-art, I'm reading Bleach-fics. And obviously since I'm not reading any right now, I'm writing one :P

AN: This is a continuation of my one-shot Peeps. It is not mandatory to read Peeps first, but it would help set up the scenario better if you did, plus it's a fun read! :)

This story is a bit more serious in nature than Peeps, but will contain humor (how can it not with Isshin and Kon meddling!) and a bit of mystery. Additionally, there will be material of a more mature nature and the rating will thusly reflect this.

Furthermore, I have decided to fit this fic within the current manga arc, though taking several liberties of my own need. Specifically, Rukia will be present, and this fic will likely diverge with future manga chapters, since I have no clue what Kubo will write :P

It won't be especially long, but it will be more than one or two chapters. Bear with me regarding updates. I will be in my last semester at my university this Fall and will be applying for graduation, sending out my résumé, and looking into moving in the earlier half of 2012. I know, it's crazy to be starting a new fic when I have all this going on but I gotta write it or it'll plague my mind!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, although I want to highjack it right about now so Ichigo can have his Rukia again.

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With a heavy sigh, Ichigo shut his bedroom door behind him. It had been one hell of a day. He was sure that he should be ecstatic that it was over, but the events of the day had taxed him in more ways than battling an endless barrage of hollows ever could. Hollows he could handle… his hormones were another story.

Propelled by what little energy he could muster, he shuffled his way over to his bed and flopped out on the mattress with another heavy sigh, limbs akimbo. He lay there in the silence of his room, staring at the ceiling and wishing that sleep would come to him. However, despite his body's fatigue his mind was a frazzled, jumbled, and very awake mess of confusion, frustration, and uncertainty. He tried to put what had happened earlier out of his thoughts. But the universe apparently derived a perverse sense of pleasure in watching him squirm, because his thoughts and memories of the day were like obnoxious neon signs. The kind that flash all bright and tempting.

The brightest one was Rukia.

With an irritated growl, he pulled his pillow out from under his neck, his head falling back suddenly due to the motion, and flung the plush article across his face. The stifling effect the pillow had over his senses was enough to distract the rush of memories and sensations that accompanied the thought of the petite shinigami before his body could betray him.

Shit. He damned his impulsiveness to Hell.

It had gotten him into this situation in the first place. His impulsiveness had fucked him over before on many occasions, but it had never left him in need of a...

He threw the pillow at the wall. He couldn't let his thoughts go back to that or he'd find himself with his hand down his pants once more, heeding the old man's advice to 'not torture himself.'

Dinner that evening had been agonizingly awkward. Karin just scowled at him, calling him 'a pervert who couldn't be bothered to suck face with his girlfriend in private.' He tried to defend himself, to no avail, by asserting that it had been private until the three of them showed up. Yuzu's regard towards him was no better. She wouldn't even look at him. Even worse than that, the old man kept unusually quiet, refraining from carrying on about his 'lovely third daughter' officially becoming a part of their family. Instead he would regard Ichigo with a knowing smirk every now and then.

It pissed him off.

Scrunching his eyes closed and raking his fingers though his hair he cursed his recklessness once more.

Despite his firm effort to put all these thoughts out of his head and pretend that nothing had ever happened, a treacherous seedling of a thought took root and grew with fervor. He wondered if Rukia was feeling as…he didn't even have a word for it. He seriously hoped that he hadn't damaged his friendship with her.

He just got her back.

It had only been a number of months since he began trying to re-establish his shinigami powers. Admittedly he had been skeptical of the purpose in bringing out and training his fullbring potential. Some of the training… methods… had him questioning why he had even agreed to it in the first place. But through that training he gradually began to feel, hear, and finally see things that he had been unable to for over a year.

The first time he saw her again was one evening after coming home from his job that he'd been neglecting in favor of his training. It was late and he hadn't even bothered turning on the lights. He had kicked off his shoes, peeled off his shirt, and was about to crawl into bed when an all too familiar presence made his breath catch. He had turned only expecting to find the faint outline of her familiar reiastu, but Rukia was there, in pajamas, perched in his closet as if she had never left.

They had had a brief but intense argument, starting with him demanding why she never visited, and ending with her defending that she had never even left. He had surprised her and himself when he pulled her into a strong embrace. He wasn't sure how to actually say how much he missed her, but he was sure she knew just from his action alone.

They hadn't had enough time to really assess their feelings on the whole situation because his father had burst into the room scooping up the petite and wide-eyed shinigami in a bear hug proclaiming how he had missed his lovely third daughter and how glad he was that she came back to Ichigo. Needless to say, the old man's celebratory antics had roused his sisters, who were annoyed at being woken up but happy at seeing Rukia again.

After that night, everything had sort of fallen into place as it had been before he lost his powers. Rukia was set up to room with the girls again. Kon, who had been free-loading on Urahara- much to the former captain's chagrin, came back overjoyed that Rukia was back to stay. He and Rukia fell back into a familiar pattern, with her pretending to be a returning high-school senior by day, taking over nightly patrols for the previously stationed shinigami, and training with him in their spare time as his powers continued to strengthen. Everything was practically back to normal.

Until that afternoon when he fucking kissed her.

And she left.

And he fucking let her. He'd been so damned stunned and scared that he didn't know what to do at the time. So he let her go.

Sure she said she'd see him later, and he knew that it had only been a matter of hours since she made her hasty retreat. But time felt like it was dragging slowly over him, smothering him with its omnipotence. And throughout that seemingly endless absence of her presence, the growing, niggling idea that she wouldn't come back festered in his mind.

He threw an arm across his eyes, blocking out the moonlight with another exasperated sigh.

Sleep couldn't come fast enough.

He was just drifting off to sleep when a shift in the mattress and a warm, slight weight settling across his lower abdomen sharply stirred him. In a jerky movement, he moved his arm away from his eyes and found an intense and familiar set looking back at him.

"Rukia…"

His ability to think coherently was effectively hindered by his sleepy-but-quickly-roused state and the object of his concern, currently straddling him.

"What are you…?"

His heart began racing as she leaned forward, soft, delicate fingers touching his lips into silence. Her eyes glittered with determination that was both familiar and completely new. She leaned closer, her lips nearly touching his own, taking the place of her fingers that were now sending warm tingles on their path down his chest.

"Kiss me more." She demanded in a breathy whisper before her lips captured his in a kiss he hadn't expected would happen again, much less so soon. He was stunned by her eagerness, his eyes wide and his lips unmoving, especially since the worry that he had ruined everything consumed his thoughts for the past few hours.

His shock didn't last for long.

Along with the warmth of her lips pressed against his, the branding heat from her hands on his chest, and the teasing moistness of her tongue seeking his own, Ichigo was lulled into a state of blissful abandon, reminiscent of his experience with the petite shinigami earlier that afternoon. His eyes had since closed as he lost focus on the world around him, Rukia and her oral ministrations being all that really mattered.

For every stroke her tongue made against his, he reciprocated with a sweep of his own. It became an intoxicating dance that grew with passion. He thought… well more like felt… that he could catch her off guard by using her own tactic and sucking her tongue just as she had done to him earlier that day. He indeed caught her off guard, but he inadvertently caught himself off guard as well for he had not expected her hips to shift so deliciously against his own while her teasing fingers traced their way up under his shirt sending shivers straight down to his…

His hands found their way from the silky hair at the nape of her neck to gripping firmly onto her hips. They barely had time to register the brevity of their situation when the door suddenly slammed into the wall.

"GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! You perv! Get your filthy paws off nee-san!"

Ichigo's shock was quickly subsumed by the irritating wail of the surprisingly strong plushie as it pummeled its stumpy little legs repeatedly into his face as if training for a marathon. But Ichigo didn't get the opportunity to wrangle the annoying mod-soul before Rukia seized the animate toy about the neck. If Ichigo hadn't shifted moods so quickly he may have noted with more clarity how appealing Rukia was still astride him, her hair all mused, her lips swollen from his kisses, and glaring daggers at Kon for his intrusion. He was not particularly keen towards the plushie at the moment either and grabbed its legs, intent on knotting the wretched things so that he wouldn't get trampled in the face again.

He and Rukia were so fixated on exacting their revenge on the lion toy, when several things happened at once.

"Ichi-nii! I heard shouting! What's wron…"

He looked to the still open door to find Yuzu standing wide-eyed and red-faced at him. Well… not just him, Rukia as well. The situation might have looked like the two had merely lost their minds fighting over a stuffed toy, except their position, their location, the skirt of Rukia's uniform riding dangerously high on her thighs, and his own shirt pulled up to expose his lower torso.

Karin was the next person to peer into his room.

"Geez, you guys are at it again? Can't you two find a time when no one's home to do that? The walls aren't that thick, you know…"

Ichigo couldn't help but sputter helplessly at his sisters. Fortunately, Rukia was quick to recover the situation.

"I was just…trying to get Yuzu's lion back…"

Or not.

"Riiiiiiiight…" Karin gave Rukia her typical 'you-gotta-be-kidding-me' look.

"Y-yeah…"

Rukia seemed to have her wits about her more than Ichigo did because she was able to pull the now limp plushie from his slackened grip. She slipped easily of his lap, straightening her skirt as she made her way to the door to accompany his sisters back to their shared room.

Karin cleared her throat with an abrupt cough as she quickly averted her eyes from him.

"Pervert."

He was searching his hindered mental capacity in order to come up with some sort of comeback to his sister's insult, but they were out of the room and had closed the door before he could utter a peep. He heaved what seemed like the hundredth heavy sigh of the night as he willed his body to release the tension that it had built up in the time that Rukia had entered his room till she had left it with his younger siblings.

Only, it was as he was relaxing that he realized that a different sort of tension still prevented him from relaxing completely. He peered down his body to see his very prominent arousal straining against his pants. It was also then that he realized exactly why Karin had chosen the particular insult for him.

"Fuck…"

Ten minutes and a clean pair of boxers later, several things occurred to Ichigo.

First, the old man hadn't come barging into his room when Kon practically raised the dead with his obnoxious wailing. He hadn't even come running when Yuzu called out to see what was wrong. Ichigo wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried; relieved that his father hadn't burst into his room giving him and Rukia tips on which positions would guarantee the old goat grandchildren. And worried because his absence meant that he wasn't home, which could only mean he was up to no good.

Second, in the midst of the myriad of emotions that he had experienced that evening, Ichigo derived a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that Kon was now at the mercy of his little sister. It served the little bastard right for the stunt he pulled. Thinking back on it with a clearer head, Rukia was brilliant to come up the excuse she had given.

Rukia.

The last thing that Ichigo thought about before sleep eventually claimed him, was Rukia and her request to kiss her more. He realized that he was more than willing to oblige her whenever she wanted.

He also realized he wanted more.

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Please let me know what you think! Reviews and suggestions welcome!

*hugs!*

-Mel


	2. Chapter 2

New chapter! YAYYYYYY!

And OMG! Has everyone seen the latest manga chapter? Mel is a very happy camper! :)

Firstly, THANKYOU SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed, faved, and added this story to their alert subscriptions! Y'all are awesome! *big hugs and loves!*You're feedback really makes my day! It gives me so much confidence in my writing which I then use to put out more chapters ^_~

Secondly, as mentioned in the previous chapter's AN, this story will loosely follow the current manga arc but will eventually diverge (I didn't consider how difficult it would be to write alongside the current manga arc, while putting my own spin on it- especially considering the latest chapter! But I have been doing some serious brainstorming- which is what has taken this chapter a while to get fleshed out- and I have a good handle on the direction of this fic. Which means it might end up being a little longer than I anticipated, and might take longer to update, but I will do it!) Some events take place in a slightly different order and at a slightly different pace as they do in the manga. You'll see as you read :)

I'm going to be working on the next chapter of this story as well as another chapter for my LOTR story (My Bleach muse kidnapped me away from my LOTR writing, but I've been brainstorming for that story too and am ready to keep it going), so hang in there! I'll update for both as soon as I'm able!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Nor do I have a Renji. ;_; I wants a sexy tattooed Renji ;P

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He could strangle her.

Ichigo glared at his traitor of a little sister as she smirked smugly back at him over the kitchen table as she stuffed another helping of rice into her mouth.

Needless to say, Ichigo's morning did not start on a pleasant note. His old man was practically jumping out of his skin with exuberance. And he hadn't even touched the coffee. Never mind that Ichigo's other, kind-hearted, non-vindictive little sister usually slipped their father the decaf when he wasn't looking. The siblings had learned long ago not to give the man anything with even the smallest amount of caffeine.

Right now, Karin's not-so-accidental slip-of-tongue regarding Rukia's presence at breakfast when she hadn't shown up for dinner, or even after said twin and her sister went to bed, topped the effects of even the smallest dose of caffeine. Actually, it wasn't exactly a slip-of-tongue as much as it was a rather blunt 'she was getting it on with Ichigo in his room.'

Naturally, this only incited the old man's hysteria much to Rukia's horror and Ichigo's chagrin.

His crazy father carried on at nearly supersonic speeds about how proud he was that Rukia had finally made a man out of his son. He asked what seemed like a thousand questions ranging from how Ichigo attended to her needs, how long he lasted, if he was gentle, who was on top, how many times they did it, if she climaxed before him (at this point Ichigo's head met the table with a prominent thud), and if they used condoms- though the crazy old man nixed that line of questioning since it wasn't conducive to producing grandchildren.

Oh yeah, he could strangle his traitorous little sister right about now.

The old goat face could have kept going for who knows how long, but thankfully Rukia despite her obvious dismay spoke up meekly, red-faced and wide-eyed.

"We…uh…didn't..."

The silence was a sharp contrast to the chaos before.

Isshin looked to his dark-haired daughter, confusion in his expression as he tried to reconcile Karin's claim with Rukia's revelation.

"What?" the twin exclaimed when confronted by the old man's questioning stare, "that's what it looked like they were doing when I looked in his room!"

A look of absolute incredulity stole across Isshin's face.

"You…inter…upted…them…?"

They were all taken aback. Never had his father shown disappointment in his sisters. Usually it was himself that received the old man's messed up brand of criticism.

"Ah! Masaki! We would have been grandparents by now if our nosy daughter knew how to mind her own business!"

Four jaws dropped simultaneously. Only a few seconds later there was a loud crash.

"You old FOOL! I didn't interrupt them! Yuzu did!" Karin seethed.

Silence descended once more. Ichigo half mused through his shock that he could hear the proverbial crickets as the other twin was now under the spotlight. A place she clearly was not used to.

That same shell-shocked Yuzu sputtered; her face pale with an expression that was torn between confusion and anger. No doubt the disparity was a result of her sister figuratively throwing her under the bus.

"I heard screams coming from Ichi-nii's room!"

"Really?" Isshin's brow perked with interest as he slapped a hand on his son's back in a gesture of pride, "That's m'boy!"

Ichigo's eye twitched while Isshin nursed his shiny new black eye.

Breakfast at this point officially became a lost cause. Ichigo's annoyed mood effectively hindered his appetite. He didn't really want to sit around and watch his father try to explain to his sisters that even if they happen to hear screaming and other noises coming from their brother's room, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He didn't need to hear or nearly choke on his orange juice, the majority spraying from his mouth across the table, at Yuzu's exclamation that she knew the difference between screaming and 'sex noises.' He definitely did not want to hear his father clarify that for some people screaming is a 'sex noise.' And as much as he was proud of Yuzu for standing up for herself and being more assertive, he didn't want to stick around for the spat that she and Karin got into.

So while pandemonium continued to ensue, Ichigo pushed back in his chair and left the table, grabbing his bag on his way to the door.

"Oi, midget!"

Rukia needed no further coaxing before she was right behind him, her own bag in hand as they headed out the door.

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They arrived at the high school nearly an hour early that day since they escaped the disastrous breakfast, which would have been a good thing if it hadn't been for the fact that the other students arrived just as early in order to socialize before the bell rang. On a normal day, it made her slightly anxious to have to behave like a normal high school student when she was anything besides. Today that feeling was amplified due to certain occurrences the day before.

Their classroom was already half-filled with students as she and Ichigo found their adjacent seats. Even though she knew that Ichigo didn't consider himself to be a popular person, she was slightly amused as a good number of those students started to congregate around their desks. Unfortunately, her own affiliation with him earned her a status of popularity, despite her desire to remain as invisible as her soul-form. In Soul Society, she spent most of her time in solitude, especially after she joined the Kuchiki clan. She was not accustomed to copious amounts of attention. Though, she quite enjoyed a certain orange-haired shinigami's attention.

She let her mind wander amidst the mindless chatter and gossip of the people around her.

To say that Ichigo stunned her yesterday was an understatement. She couldn't imagine what had possessed him to kiss her that afternoon. She knew that he was definitely not one prone to displays of affection. Come to think of it, she couldn't recall him being one prone to any sort of physical contact besides a random handshake out of courtesy, or at that moment, a punch. Apparently, Asano just said something unsavory…

Ichigo certainly had no problem with throwing punches. But kisses…

She felt butterflies in her stomach whenever she thought of that kiss. The look in his eyes just before he kissed her; the conviction she saw there. His initiative surprised her so much that she simply melted as his warm lips touched hers for that first time. Throughout that first kiss, she found that she quite liked that dominance he displayed in not letting her shy from his pursuit. It was a new side of him, it was exciting, and she realized that she wanted to see more of this Ichigo. It was such a far cry from his usual stand-offish and scowling self.

She glanced at Ichigo with an amused smirk.

He was currently scowling at the annoying boy Asano. She was so familiar with his propensity towards scowling that she was able to determine what each scowl could be attributed to. For instance, in general, he wore a scowl to appear unapproachable, not that it did any good considering the number of peers that were drawn to the reputation that the scowl had earned him. Actually, it was kind of annoying how the female students would swoon over his seeming dangerousness.

He also often wore a scowl that was indicative of irritation. Presently, such a scowl was on his face. A similar scowl masked his face this morning when his father practically went into hysterics after learning of…what they were doing the evening before.

Actually, the older Kurosaki was slightly misinformed and blew things far out of proportion. She was horrified with the barrage of very personal inquiries Ichigo's father made regarding their previous evening's activities. For once, She didn't blame Ichigo whatsoever for wanting to pummel the hyperactive man.

She couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks as she recalled the some of things Kurosaki-san had asked of the two of them. Like who had been on top. Not that they were doing what he thought they were doing, but her cheeks blushed an even deeper shade than they had been before recalling that it was most definitely herself who had been on top. She could feel the heat of her blush intensify even more as a very dangerous little thought entered her mind of what it would feel like to have Ichigo on top…

"Are you alright Kuchiki-san?"

Rukia was startled out of her musings by Inoue's inquisitive face.

"Yeah…um… I just realized that I messed up one of the answers from yesterday's exam."

"Oh! Was it number 23, because I almost missed the part where it asked us to…"

Rukia prided herself in being a capable actress. She giggled and preened with the auburn-haired girl. It didn't take long before Inoue's attention was no longer focused on Rukia, and Inoue was none the wiser as to what really made her blush. The others, who had a slight interest in the brief interaction, went back to whatever conversations they had been engaged in prior. All except for one person, whose familiar features took on a concerned scowl. He knew that she was acting.

He didn't need to say anything, because he could do so with his eyes. She had also become accustomed to these visual conversations. He gave her a look, a scowl, that said, 'what's wrong?' and she gave him a glance that said, 'nothing, don't worry about it.' He would drop it for now, but his scowl said that he wouldn't forget.

Rukia didn't have the opportunity to ponder her thoughts any further because the next instant the bell rang and their instructor called the class to order.

With a sigh, she resigned herself to going through the motions of this world's educational system. She enjoyed the Living World immensely, particularly being able to spend time with the orange-haired shinigami seated next to her, but the schooling was such a bore. Thankfully, according to Ichigo, there were only a few more months left until graduation.

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In all of the events of the week, Ichigo's temporal bearings had been thrown askew. So as the classes ended for the day, he was more than happy to realize that it was the end of the week, for the weekend meant several things. For one thing, it allowed him the chance to step back and take in the transformations that had occurred in his life within only a matter of days. Specifically, he now had more time to think about how things with a certain petite shinigami were changing, without having to juggle scholarly obligations and a daily social routine on top of it. But he would leave 'certain thoughts' till later that night. Right now he had to focus.

Another thing about weekends Ichigo was grateful for was the extra time for training. He was thrilled to have the ability to see and feel reiatsu again, and he knew that obtaining his fullbring was crucial to gaining back these abilities, but there were certain drawbacks to the fullbring that made dealing with hollows troublesome.

One big shortcoming of the fullbring was that he was still visible to the world around him. He hadn't realized the full implications until he and Rukia came home one evening after patrolling for hollows. They were starving since they had to run out on dinner because she received several alerts on her soul pager, so they heated up the leftovers that Yuzu saved for them in the fridge. They had just sat down in front of television, Ichigo turning it on, when an image of him wielding his fullbring flashed across the news channel's breaking story.

After a good amount of choking on their dinner from the shock of it all, Rukia was the first to recover and spring into action. That was one thing that Ichigo admired about her. No matter how dire a situation was, she would do her best to remain level-headed, while he tended to let his emotions get the best of him. Once she had gathered her wits about her she was in contact with Urahara and nearby shinigami to assist in the memory modification of those who had seen the news footage. She also retained the video footage itself before it had spread outside the local coverage area and destroyed it. That whole fiasco lead to his and Rukia's weekly training sessions at Urahara's underground training field.

He looked down at his shihakushō, the thick but surprisingly light material a welcome sight to his eyes. Just last week, he achieved his shinigami form for the first time in nearly two years.

"You really missed it."

It was more of a statement rather than a question. He looked up to find Rukia looking at him intently.

Being a shinigami wasn't the only thing he missed.

"Yeah."

He saw her cheeks flush. She knew what he meant.

"The fullbring is…just not the same…" he left it at that. He didn't want to dismiss it altogether. It did get him to where he was now.

Her snicker caught his attention.

"I agree," her eyes twinkled with mirth, "this look suits you much better."

"Wha…?"

He wasn't entirely sure what to make of her statement. Was she complimenting him?

Leave it to Rukia to compliment him with an insult.

"Besides," she was serious once more, "you have your zanpakutou again."

He looked at the katana sheathed at his hip. It was so strange to see it there. It was even stranger to see it in this form. He knew it was Zangetsu. He could feel the familiar reiatsu. But he had never seen him in a dormant state. He always had carried Zangetsu in his skikai, even his bankai.

"You just have to wake him up."

He knew what he needed to do.

"I'll keep an eye on this fool." She indicated his mod-soul inhabited body that ran through the vast underground facility, exhibiting abilities that he had to keep under wraps around town.

Ichigo nodded with a smirk.

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It was late as they left Urahara's for the night. The night air was cool, as it was still spring. Rukia walked beside him in a comfortable silence. He knew when she was giving him time to his own thoughts, and right now was one of those times. He was grateful to her, because right now he really needed the time to think through what had transpired underground that evening.

He was surprised at first, when he was meditating with Zangetsu. He had expected to have to wake up the old guy from whatever slumber was blocking access to his shikai. He hadn't expected Zangetsu to be very awake and intentionally shielding the shikai from his wielder.

The zanpakutou was more cantankerous than usual. He was apparently still quite vexed by Ichigo's use of the final Getsuga Tenshou.

After several hours of a very stilted conversation, with him doing most of the talking followed by maximum- two word answers from Zangetsu, Ichigo finally gave in for the night. It was going to take a lot of sucking up to the old guy to get him to cooperate.

Leaving Urahara's that night had left him feeling just as helpless as when he first lost his shinigami powers nearly two years ago. It didn't help that as they made their way home, Rukia got a hollow alert in the vicinity. It wasn't a particularly strong hollow, but just the fact that he could shift to his shinigami form yet not use his zanpakutou was seriously incapacitating. He had to let Rukia take care of the hollow when he much rather preferred to protect her, taking care of the hollow himself.

He tried to put on a casual façade to mask how much this was affecting him. But Rukia knew him too well.

"He's just being stubborn," she tried to reassure with her quirky sense of humor, "kind of like someone else I know."

Despite how despondent he was feeling, he couldn't help the hint of a smile that quirked at the corners of his mouth. She always would do that; make whatever doubt that was overwhelming him, seem so trivial. Not that his doubts were insignificant. But what she did was make him see that he could overcome whatever roadblock there was.

When she put it that way, it made Ichigo realize that Zangetsu would eventually come around. Afterall, the zanpakutou would not have returned to him if he didn't want to.

But he did.

Zangetsu knew the reasons why Ichigo pressured him into divulging the secret to the final Getsuga Tenshou. He couldn't hold Ichigo's choice against him forever. No, this was just Zangetsu's own little dose of payback.

Zangetsu couldn't protect his bond with Ichigo, and so Ichigo couldn't protect those he cared about. It was a bit petty in Ichigo's opinion. Then again, he was willing to sacrifice the bond he had with the zanpakutou for the sake of…everything.

He breathed in a sigh as he and Rukia turned onto their street.

"I think you should learn Kido."

He hadn't expected her to say anything else, much less that. They had been walking in a comfortable silence, with him to his own thoughts for a while.

"Uh…Are you sure that's a good idea? You do remember the last time I tried to use Kido?"

"Vividly, which is precisely why I think you should learn it properly."

He wasn't exactly sure why she was bringing this up now. He thought it was most important that he regain his ability to wield his zanpakutou.

She must have seen the uncertainty on his face because she spoke again.

"That's not the only reason why I think you should learn kido," she had his attention now, his thoughts quickly locked away within the recesses of his mind.

"I'm not sure how long it will take you to wield your zanpakutou like you used to, but I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to learn Kido," she continued, "not only that, but it would prove to be a helpful additional combat tool."

He had an idea why she was pushing the Kido issue. He knew that she refrained from suggesting that he should rely on his fullbring until he was able to wield Zangetsu again; one reason being that it just was not practical to battle hollow fully visible and looking like a hero straight off the pages of a comic book. The other reason being that he couldn't purify the hollows by using his fullbring.

There was something else that bothered her about the fullbring, he could tell. She always avoided conversations concerning the subject. He tried to figure out what she had against his new power… a new power that enabled him to see her once again…but he just couldn't see it.

They had just reached his house, both of them opting to enter the abode through his bedroom window. It was an unspoken pact they had made, more like a pattern they sort of fell into when they would come home after everyone else was in bed. Neither of them wanted to wake anyone up, mainly because his father would make it into something that it wasn't. It worked quite well actually, seeing as Rukia would hide a pair of pajamas in the hall linen closet so she could enter the room she shared with the girls claiming that she had just come from the bathroom. Luckily, neither sleepy twin was coherent enough to realize that Rukia had never gone to bed in the first place.

He must have still had a disgruntled look on his face because Rukia put her hands on his shoulders, turning his tall frame to face hers. She caught his gaze with her own, piercing him with her intensity and confidence in him.

"You are going to regain what you lost," her hands captured his face when he tried to look away, "look how far you've come already."

He looked into her eyes. He was always amazed at what she was able to see that he couldn't see himself. Whenever he felt like something was hopeless, her belief in him made him realize that there was always hope.

He felt the soft, warmth of her hand leave his face. But his disappointment was short-lived as her tentative fingers delicately shifted the hair from in front of his eyes, sending shivers throughout his body.

This was so new to him, to both of them. He had known for a while that his relationship with her was more than just simple friends. He knew they were close. With Rukia, there was the deepest level of trust he had ever felt with anybody.

But it was so completely new to him that the closeness and unequivocal trust they had in each other could become…whatever it was becoming.

Affectionate.

Physical.

Intimate.

It terrified him and excited him all at once. It terrified him that they were on the precipice of something…more. It terrified him that they could never really go back to the way it had been. But it excited him as well. And he welcomed it, despite its newness.

He welcomed more just then, as Rukia pulled him towards her with her other hand, the one becoming lost in his unruly hair, and melded her lips with his. His trepidation quickly dissipated, replaced by growing excitement.

Each kiss they shared was more thrilling than the last, each kiss pushing more boundaries.

The first kiss was an impulsive reaction to the exceedingly tempting way she ate the spring candies. The sugar from the marshmallow bunnies lingering with his first taste of Rukia was something he was surely not going to forget.

The second kiss he hadn't expected. Nor had he expected Rukia to be so forward. Nor had he expected to be so turned on by it. His mind had trouble grasping the possibilities of what could have happened if the damned mod-soul hadn't interrupted them.

Right now boundaries were tested even further as Rukia's lips left his trailing hot moist kisses across his jaw and down his neck. The air cooling the skin left in her wake an erotic contrast to her tongue's massage of the juncture between his shoulder and neck as she tugged at his shirt's collar for better access.

He couldn't help the low groan that escaped his throat. Nor could he help or understand the sudden need to hear moans coming from her as his fingers that were tangled in her hair, pulled gently tilting her face back up to his. He nipped at her bottom lip, his tongue tracing with soothing pressure at his insistence. She relaxed into him, pliant and ready.

He wasted no time delving his tongue into the warmth of her mouth, her resounding moan sending pleasing vibrations down his tongue and further.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, their lips and tongues leisurely brushing and playing until they had to part, needing to replenish the oxygen they expended.

They stood, there in the darkness of his room, her forehead pressed against his chest, his cheek resting against her hair.

After several minutes of just standing, letting their breathing return to normal as well as their beating hearts, Ichigo broke the peaceful silence.

"Hey."

She looked up at him, her eyes dark glittering with contentment, "Hey."

"Nobody interrupted."

A snicker escaped her kiss-swollen lips at his observation.

"Thank goodness."

He smiled at that.

They remained as they were, Rukia comfortable within his arms. She rested her head against his chest once more and he lazily ran his fingers through her soft hair, the repetitive movement soothing to the both of them as thoughts filtered into his mind.

It had only been yesterday that he first kissed her. How could he feel so different, so intensely after three kisses. Only yesterday they had been friends, and now they were… he didn't know.

"Rukia…"

She looked up at him, her brows furrowed, no doubt from the uncertain look on his face.

"What…are we…?"

With a smirk, she shook her head in what he supposed was amusement.

"You're thinking too hard again."

"Huh…?" He was being serious, how could she be so casual about this.

Her hands unwrapped themselves from around his torso, reaching up to his face, and pressing against his face ensuring that his gaze didn't leave her own.

"We're just us."

She said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. They were still just them…right?

He didn't have much time to ponder because his phone's ringtone blared from his pocket.

Rukia's brows furrowed, much like his own. It was past midnight. His fingers reluctantly left her hair, and fished his cell out of his back pocket. But, by the time he pressed to answer the call, it went to voicemail.

"Who was it?"

Ichigo tapped the menu to show the list of recent calls.

"Inoue…"

Just then the phone registered a voicemail, the sound alert indicating so. He listened to the message, Rukia's concerned eyes silently questioning.

"Ishida was attacked. He's in the hospital."

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Please let me know what you guys think! Comments, suggestions, etc.

This was kind of a transition chapter of sorts, a way of setting a pace. There will be more action (the trouble kind, and of course the 'other' kind *wink-wink* *hint-hint*coming soon ^_~


	3. Chapter 3

Hello fabulous readers! I have a new chapter for you!

Firstly, I'm SOOOOOOOOOOO sorry for not being able to put out this chapter sooner. I do what I can around all the obligations in my life :) University, work, art commissions, holidays, health issues, personal issues…personal issues… personal issues… I blame those the most!

Seriously, I had gotten a good portion of the chapter done, then I had to take a break for exams, research papers, holidays, etc. and when I came back to it, the second half just wasn't…right. I had to do some pretty substantial tweaking. It wasn't quite on track with what I have planned for later chapters, but I got it back in order. The holidays are over now, I just have some volunteer hours to fulfill for my internship this spring term, which means…*Hallelujah music*… NO final papers, exams, research papers and what not! More time for fic writing! :D

Secondly, I want to profoundly thank all of those who have reviewed, faved, and added to alert subscriptions! It means so much to know that you all enjoy what I've written! I truly value you guys' kind words and encouragements! And in return, I write more for you! XD

Thanks to: **Munna, Ru, bubbleboss1022, broken emerald, whydragonsfly, Infinity Comes To A End, chineschopsticks, IRForever, BosRonald, Vi0let, amehoshi141, missstampeed, Alyssa, w. cyan, Kaoru Kato**, and **hinataellis**!

Once more, as a reminder, this fiction is a reimagining of the current manga arc. As such, the timeline is slightly different. Main elements are there, I just tweaked things for my purposes

Also, this chapter is for **IRForever** in honor of her suggestion, a re-imagining of a particular Bleach-anime moment. I am sticking mostly to the manga, but her suggestion was just too tempting! XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, for which I lament eternally…

Disclaimer 2: Mature language and subject matter within (no sex yet, just the musings of a hormonally driven male, hehe) ;D

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The combination of stark artificial lighting and the smell of stagnant sterility was oppressive in the already tense environ of Ishida's hospital room. As if being in a hospital wasn't already uncomfortable.

Ichigo leaned against the empty hospital bed adjacent to the one occupied by Ishida, arms folded across his chest and assessing the bandaged and splinted arm that landed the Quincy in the hospital. Ishida stared icily ahead, apparently none too thrilled at Ichigo's presence. Rukia perched next to Ichigo on the spare bed, fingers tapping softly against her knees in a futile attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that had settled across the room. Inoue, the room's final occupant sat on the other side of Ishida's bed in a visitor's chair, looking worriedly between the Quincy and himself.

Not able to stand it anymore, Ichigo broke the taught silence.

"So, what the hell happened? …Don't tell me you got your ass handed to you by a hollow."

He was met with an icy glare from bespectacled bow-wielder.

"As if a hollow could put me in the hospital."

"My point exactly. So what the fuck happened?"

The edge to Ishida's stare lessened at Ichigo's acknowledgement.

"I was attacked by sword."

Ichigo stilled at the admission. As did Rukia. He could feel it just in her reiastu alone. Ishida must have seen the wariness on their faces because he preempted them.

"He was not a shinigami."

He wasn't really sure what to make of that statement. Sure it was a relief that Ishida wasn't attacked by any shinigami, but it was also unsettling to know that someone or something out there could cause such damage. Ishida may be a Quincy, but he sure as hell was not that easy to bring down. Ichigo then caught Rukia's expression as she looked up at him. She obviously felt the same way. But, despite the lack of information to go by, a few things were certain. The attacker was male, carried a sword, and was not a shinigami.

Ichigo ruminated internally in attempt to narrow down who Ishida's attacker could be when he was distracted out of his thoughts by the Quincy swearing as he shifted uncomfortably. Inoue was up and at Ishida's side ready to assist in any way she could, as such was her nature to nurture.

Then something occurred to Ichigo as Inoue helped Ishida adjust the pillow behind his back to keep the bow-wielder from straining his injured arm.

"Inoue…couldn't you heal his arm?"

The auburn-haired girl paused in her actions and looked down, an apologetic expression on her face. She answered softly.

"I couldn't heal Ishida-kun…"

Ishida must have noticed Ichigo and Rukia's confused reactions because he then clarified.

"The paramedics were already helping me by the time Inoue-san got there. It would have looked rather suspicious had a severe flesh wound been healed instantly."

The Quincy had a point. It looked like Ishida would have to wait this injury out.

Another awkward silence settled across the room, but it was short lived as a boisterous nurse cheerfully bumbled into the room, a small paper cup in hand.

"Ah! Ishida-kun! Time for your last antibiotic of the day!" she sing-songed, pausing suddenly with surprise as she noticed the rest of the room's occupants, "Oh, how nice, your friends came to visit you!"

The four of them could only watch in dismay as the animated caretaker bustled about the room chattering about how kind Ishida's friends were and how uncommon it was nowadays to come across young people who cared about more than video games, drugs, and pornography. She made her way back over to Ishida after retrieving a cup and filling it with water from the sink in the corner next to the restroom. And just as quickly as she came, she was out the door, her final instruction to the lot of them to make sure Ishida swallowed both capsules fading with her as she rounded the corner and into the hall.

The four of them continued to stare at the empty doorway, not sure if the excessively energetic nurse would come back through. After a generous span of time, they were pretty assured that they wouldn't be bothered by the nurse again.

Ichigo couldn't resist the opening.

"You heard her Ishida… chug, chug, chug, the pills in the mug, do as I said, if not you'll be dead."

Fortunately, Ishida's arm was out of commission, because Ichigo was pretty sure the Quincy wanted to skewer him.

"Shrivel up and die, Kurosaki."

Rolling his eyes, Ichigo could hear Rukia trying to stifle her laughter.

"I don't even know how to describe that." Ichigo changed tactics.

"Overly obnoxious. Apparently the nurse normally assigned to this shift is on vacation. Pediatrics had a spare…"

A unanimous assent of understanding made its way across the room.

Ishida took the opportunity to take the antibiotic. He would certainly need it if he was going to have to go without Inoue's healing.

A sudden sputter and struggled cough accompanied a spray of water from the Quincy in a display far from indicative of his normal dignified demeanor. Inoue was once again up and by Ishida's side soothing his back to ease the involuntary spasms that continued to wrack through the bow-wielder's chest. He took another drink in effort to sooth the tickle left in his throat, but he clearly had expelled more water than what was left in the cup.

Rukia left her perch and retrieved the cup from Ishida, making her way over to the sink to refill it for the struggling Quincy. Regarding Ishida once more, Ichigo gave him a quizzical look.

"Just swallowed wrong." The Quincy offered.

"Were you able to swallow the pills, Ishida-kun?" Inoue asked worriedly.

Through a few lingering coughs, Ishida was able to answer in the affirmative, thanking Inoue for her concern. As Inoue continued to fuss over their bedridden friend, Ichigo noticed Ishida's attempt to conceal his flushed face at the ample-busted girl's attentions. He logged that little tidbit away for future Quincy torture.

"Dammit!"

Ichigo's had been plotting internally on ways in which to taunt the clearly smitten Quincy, but Rukia's sudden outburst had drawn his attention. It was just a natural reaction for him to immediately respond to any sound of distress coming from the petite shinigami. She did have a propensity to unknowingly find trouble. He turned to find said woman battling with the faucet of the sink in the corner of the room.

"Oi, midget," Ichigo tried to capture her attention, an amused smirk on his face, "having a hard time?"

"No." She firmly defended despite her actions to the contrary.

Shaking his head in mock exasperation, when really he found it quite entertaining that she tried to deny needing help with things, he made his way over to the sink. Inoue still focused on the sputtering Ishida, and the bow wielder too flustered to pay any mind to what they assumed to be the two shinigamis' normal antics.

As he drew nearer to the petite raven-haired woman, he could hear her muttering curses under her breath at the questionable standards of the hospital whilst she continuously strained to turn the sink's cold water nozzle in the wrong direction.

"Hey, genius," He reached his arm around her shoulder, feeling her back tense against his front as she realized that he was right behind her, "You're turning it the wrong way."

She looked back at him, bristling and shifting until he was by her side, "No... the one at home turns this way…"

Ichigo couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his mouth, even though it earned him a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"The one at home turns the other way because my idiot dad installed it backwards."

He watched her as she contemplated what he said; he could see her internally struggling with letting up on her stubbornness and acquiescing to his reasonable explanation.

Finally, with a blush, she made to turn the faucet nozzle in the proper direction only to be met with resistance. Brows furrowing, and biting her bottom lip, she gripped the nozzle tighter. It still wouldn't budge. Apparently, she had been turning the nozzle in the wrong direction with such force that it wouldn't twist back.

"Here, let me try."

Frustrated, she relinquished her grasp of the nozzle. So, taking firm hold from what he assumed to be a good angle, Ichigo urged the nozzle from its fused position.

The damned nozzle held fast.

"Shit…" Ichigo looked to the petite and freakishly strong woman beside him.

With an irritated sigh, Rukia vied for her grip of the nozzle once more.

"You're making it worse!"

"How am I making it worse?"

"You just are!"

"You're the one who did this to begin with!"

"Shut up! You're not helping!"

"I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!"

Just as Rukia was about to offer him a comeback, the nozzle, of which they still labored to loosen amidst their arguing, suddenly shifted free of its locked position. The abrupt change ushered a highly concentrated gush of water from the faucet that hit the porcelain basin with such force that it caused the liquid to overflow in a rush onto the two shinigami.

Ichigo managed to shut off the faucet only after being liberally doused with icy water on the bottom half of his shirt, and unfortunately the front of his pants.

Rukia didn't fare much better. In fact, she wore a stunned expression on her face as she stood rigidly from the shock of the cold water that drenched her white shirt.

"Look what you did!" she finally exclaimed, indicating her very wet torso.

He normally would have been able to offer a quick rebuttal in his defense. But he found himself dumbfounded and speechless at the image she presented.

There she stood, the wet, pale fabric rendered slightly translucent as it clung to her skin. Ichigo had never really been the kind of guy to obsess about women or their body parts, his life up until recently never left him much opportunity. But at that moment, years of curbed interest dissipated at the sight of pert nipples straining against the cold of her very damp shirt.

It wasn't just the taut peaks that caught his attention. Okay… maybe it was at first. But he also noticed the way the heavier-than-normal fabric adhered to the skin underneath, emphasizing the slope and curve of her breasts that were normally modestly hidden. They weren't huge, like the disturbingly high number of women that he was acquainted with, but to say that Rukia was flat-chested was beyond inaccurate.

Maybe it was because they had just recently crossed an important threshold in their relationship. Maybe it was because seeing more of Rukia than he had ever imagined, did funny things to his brain, reducing him to stare, transfixed, like a horny idiot. He didn't really have the mental faculties at that moment, nor the opportunity to wonder why Rukia's small, wet, and perky breasts affected him far more than any set of obscenely over-sized assets ever could.

And affecting him they were.

Shit. He had always been respectful, if not a little prudish when it came to matters of a sexual nature. Okay… a lot prudish. But now, the sight of them left only one portion of his brain functioning. That portion was currently wondering how the perfect little mounds would feel in his hands. And those thoughts sent a tantalizing tingle through his body, making his hands, and other parts tense in anticipation of the satisfaction of touch.

"Ichigo!" she hissed at him as her arms suddenly crossed in front of her chest and his line of sight.

Shit.

He looked up to her face to find a pair of wide, blue-violet eyes, framed by a flushed complexion, staring incredulously into his own.

"Jacket. Now." She coarsely whispered through clenched teeth.

"Huh…"

"Give me you jacket, now."

It didn't take long for him to shake himself of his stupor. Rukia's indignant expression helped. He quickly slipped his jacket off his shoulders, extending the mostly dry garment to the petite woman in front of him.

She donned the jacket even more quickly than she snatched it out of his grasp.

"Ruki…" he tried softly, only loud enough for her to hear.

She looked up at him, a bright pink flush across her cheeks. His deer-in-the-headlights expression must have tempered her ire somewhat, because with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she responded, "Just…forget it…"

Resuming the task that she had set out to do, Rukia filled the cup with water for Ishida. She made her way back across the room to give the beverage to the Quincy, leaving Ichigo to stand by the sink not sure of what to make of what had just happened.

So, at a loss, and turning back towards the rooms other occupants, Ichigo found Inoue worriedly fussing over Rukia, Rukia trying to graciously set the aburn-haired girl's mind at ease, and Ishida casting a raised-brow, bemused, and rather self-satisfied expression his way. An expression of someone who just discovered a juicy bit of blackmail.

Fucking Quincy.

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More than a week had gone by since Ishida was attacked and they visited him in the hospital. More than a week had gone by since the fated sink faucet incident pushed even more boundaries of Rukia and Ichigo's evolving relationship. More than a week had gone by since Rukia was the focus of Ichigo's hungry stare. And more than a week had gone by and the two of them had not shared more than a few tentative kisses and restrained caresses.

"Focus Ichigo!"

Even as they were now training, she couldn't help that her thoughts kept straying to the way his intense gaze had fixed upon her person that day. More specifically, her breasts. It reminded her somewhat of the way his eyes fixated on her with such confidence just before their first kiss. But it was also very different, and very new to her. Whereas before, she had seen determination and conviction, this time she had been the subject of want and desire.

She had been so taken aback that didn't know what to call it at first. But it was a primal want that she saw in his eyes, a desire that did funny things to her stomach. And she wasn't sure how to react, which is why she retaliated with embarrassed aggressiveness.

"Shit!"

She watched in exasperation as his hand became unsteady, the already fluctuating beam of energy veering erratically of course of its intended target, slicing a deep gash in the East perimeter wall of Urahara's subterranean training grounds.

As the dust settled, said shop-owner spoke up from the spot he had been left bound in one of Ichigo's tries at a simple binding spell.

"Kurosaki-san, would you kindly refrain from ruining the structural integrity of my training facility?"

Ichigo simply glared in response.

"Stupid idiot is hopeless…" Jinta murmured from his own awkwardly bound position.

She saw the tick in Ichigo's eye from the comment uttered by the exceptionally outspoken adolescent.

"That's not fair to say, Jinta," The other soft-spoken pre-teen pointed out, from her cross-legged seat, arms secured behind her, "He did bind you after all."

"Shut up, Ururu!" the fiery-tempered adolescent turned as bright as his hair in embarrassment, "I say it's fair especially when he's been at it for…how many hours now? I mean, c'mon! You'd think that he'd get it already!"

Rukia massaged the dull throb forming in her temples, her patience wearing increasingly thin.

Still, Jinta continued, "Or maybe the problem isn't berry-top. Yeah, he's probably got performance anxiety from being ordered around and criticized by short'n'bossy over there. Or, maybe it's distracting being trained by the woman he screws every nigh…"

"Would you SHUT UP!"

The variety of startled to intrigued to nasty looks directed her way didn't really bother her.

Ichigo's pink-cheeked but concerned scowl, however, did. He had also been especially considerate of her this past week. It was unlike him. He wasn't being himself. She had a feeling it was his way of making up for what happened at Ishida's hospital room. So she had pushed to start his Kido training at a more strenuous pace, to take his mind off of it and back onto a more normal aspect of their relationship.

Urahara's bratty little apprentice certainly wasn't helping with his overly verbose input.

Inhaling deeply, she forcibly cleared her mind.

Now that all the yammering had, for the moment, ceased, she could give a little thought as to why Ichigo was having such trouble with the Hado spell, especially since it was only level four. Of course it didn't really help his case that he mumbled the incantation under his breath. Rukia had a feeling that his unclear enunciation coupled with the amount of spiritual pressure he tried to compress into the spell resulted in its instability, as evidenced by the beam's fluctuating light.

Biting the inside of her lip, she tried to think of what would force him to focus.

As she was wracking her brain for any ideas that would help, she absently glanced at the still-bound spectators around them. That's when it suddenly came to her that what Ichigo needed, was a target. Urahara, his crew, and Kon in Ichigo's body had become reluctant targets for his Bakudo practice. He had been using the entire expanse of the wall as his Hado target. Though, this time his target was too large and did not allow him the opportunity to focus.

Looking around, she wanted to find something that was large enough that Ichigo would hit it, but small enough that he would have no choice but to focus.

That when she spotted something.

Next to Urahara, lay a neglected apple with a single bite missing. The abandoned fruit had clearly been sitting in the spot that it came to rest for quite some time as the inside flesh oxidized to a ruddy brown. It was perfect.

Ignoring Ichigo's questioning look, Rukia retrieved the apple, careful to avoid the now mushy, teeth-carved crater.

"I think the reason you're having trouble focusing on a single point is that you don't have a small enough target," she held up the apple, watching as his expression took on a wary scowl.

"This is your target."

"Uh…where are you going with this?" Ichigo asked nervously, then his expression turned incredulous, "You don't expect me to shoot that off your head?"

While she had been toying with the very notion he just mentioned, a much more appealing one occurred to her.

"Oh, not mine." She replied with a rather pleased smirk just forming at the corner of her mouth.

She casually walked around, pretending to peruse her surroundings for an appropriate perch for the newly repurposed piece of fruit. But she already knew where the target was going to be placed.

Slowing her stride just behind Jinta, she balanced the apple within the firm spikes of his punkish coif. From the corner of her eye, she could see Urahara bite back a chuckle of amusement, even from his off-kilter, half supine position he was bound into.

"W-wha-what are you doing?"

The tangible panic coming from the scarlet-headed boy was quite satisfying, especially in the wake of said boy's earlier annoyingly counterproductive commentary.

"Y-y-you can't be serious!"

"I'm quite serious."

"B-But…what if he misses?"

"Hmmm," Rukia tapped her chin thoughtfully, "I guess you'll just have to have faith."

Rukia turned away from the boy sputtering disbelievingly at her final remark. Casting a glance towards Ichigo as she moved a safe distance away, she could make out a faint smirk curving the corners of his mouth. His eyes, the same eyes that had warily regarded her this past week, now warmed at her clever retribution for Jinta's overly zealous commentary and appraised her with a gaze that made her breath catch.

Watching Ichigo take aim, she had a feeling their brief awkward impasse was at an end.

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"Ah, here you are Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo turned to see Urahara handing him a sake cup, a genial expression on the shopkeeper's face.

Quirking an eyebrow at the proffered drink, Ichigo looked questioningly at Urahara, "I'm not twenty yet."

"Bah!" Urahara dismissed with a wave and a more insistent push of the cup into Ichigo's hand, "It takes most shinigami months, even years, to master basic level kido. You just did it in a week. I think a little celebratory libation is in order!"

Ichigo took the cup hesitantly.

"You always did progress ridiculously fast…." Urahara mused almost to himself, "C'mon Ichigo! Don't just sniff it, drink up!"

Ichigo took a sip, stopping abruptly when his palette, unaccustomed to alcohol, threatened with a sputtering cough. Nearly automatically, Ichigo found himself on the receiving end of Kisuke administering a series of firm pounds to his back.

"We'll work on that." the ex-shinigami captain reassured.

Ichigo just gave him a look that said 'no way in fucking Hell am I gonna touch that shit again'.

Pauses in conversation with Urahara always tended to be awkward, more for Ichigo than the odd man himself. So in unconscious effort to distract himself, Ichigo found himself looking beyond the sliding door and into the room where the other participants in that day's training were gathered, Ichigo couldn't help the laugh as Jinta had begrudgingly succumbed to a haircut, to even out the charred patches that were left after Ichigo's Hado lesson.

Following the path of the kid's fuming glare, Ichigo's eyes alighted on Rukia. In the middle of conversation with Yoruichi, whom managed to avoid being an impromptu training target that afternoon, Rukia must have sensed his eyes upon her because she turned to him, a warm smile briefly gracing her lips, before she turned back to her conversation.

His own smile lingered on his face as he recalled her rather devious, self-praiseworthy, and clever solution for Jinta's pain-in-the-ass remarks that afternoon. He was glad. The unspoken camaraderie in the equally reciprocated glances between him and Rukia was a step back into comfortably familiar territory.

"So, how's Kuchiki-san's gigai?"

Urahara's new line of conversation was completely out-of-the-blue. The former shinigami tended to be rather random at times. Apparently, he's also random when trying to whip up a new line of conversation where that last had fizzled. But, Rukia's gigai? That was abnormal even for, Urahara, the paragon of abnormality.

"Uh, fine, I guess."

Ichigo, still confused as to Hat'n'clogs' seemingly arbitrary interest in the status of Rukia's gigai, began to wonder why the shopkeeper would express such concern…unless, something was wrong…and he knew about it.

Urahara must have detected the worry welling up within Ichigo, because he amended, "I'm not asking if something is wrong with her gigai, Ichigo."

His eye twitched. Urahara was always weird. But he was a freaking genius, so he usually had a good reason for whatever he said. Despite that, Ichigo just couldn't grasp what the fuck he was getting at.

"I'm asking how you _like_ Kuchiki's gigai." When the shopkeeper was met with an even more puzzled, if not slightly wary, expression from Ichigo, he shook his head, "Nevermind."

Ichigo didn't even know if the situation was worth pressing Urahara for whatever reason the man brought up Rukia's gigai. He was exhausted. It had been a long day and he had worked his ass, not to mention his nerves, to what felt like hell and back. It was already starting to get late,he didn't want to miss another of Yuzu's dinners, and he had some studying to make up for, which he had already neglected.

"Whatever."

After a few more minutes of awkward silence sitting next to Urahara, Ichigo finally decided that their stay had worn its welcome that day. Not so much because the proprietor and his resident associates had indicated in any fashion that they wished to kick he and Rukia to the curb. Well, maybe Jinta did. Ultimately, it was Ichigo's own readiness to get out of the place and seek the comfort of his own home and bedroom that had the two of them offering brief goodbyes.

It was as he and Rukia were walking back, a comfortable leisure settled between them in light of the minimal hollow count that evening, when Ichigo finally got what Urahara was getting at.

The rest of the walk was not as comfortable for Ichigo.

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"I-chi-GOOOOOOO!"

It wouldn't be a normal start to the week if Ichigo wasn't at the receiving end of Keigo's hysterics. Nor would it be a normal start to the week if Keigo wasn't at the receiving end of Ichigo's fist.

"Shit, man," his obnoxious friend griped as he tenderly rubbed the bridge of his nose, tears coming to his eyes, "I think something is loose…"

Ichigo just shook his head.

Students were filing into the classroom intermittently, guys grouping together to razz on each other, girls grouping together to gossip, guys taking the opportunity to flirt with the girls… Chizuru taking the opportunity to flirt with the girls…

"So, what gives, Ichigo? I freaking text you over the weekend to go out and…" he paused for dramatic effect, "… no answer. What the hell were you doing?"

He resorted to the excuse he always supplied to his boisterous friend.

"Studying."

"The whole fucking weekend? Come on, you don't expect me to buy that."

Ichigo was spared from answering as Mizuiro, Tatsuki, and Inoue arrived, settling into the desks around Ichigo's to chat before class. Not that Ichigo did much chatting. Or listening for that matter. He wasn't completely inconsiderate of the gang. It was more like letting his thoughts carry him away as he watched the friends he grew up with banter back and forth.

It was also helpful that Keigo's attention was now currently diverted from prying into why he never responded to any texts over the weekend. Ichigo never thought that he would be so thankful to Inoue's bizarre account of the various instruments attached to each of a cyborg octopus' robotic extremities.

"Rukia-chan!"

Speaking of the focus of his wandering thoughts.

Damn Urahara and the seedling of a thought he had planted in his brain. Not only had it brought back visions of Rukia in her drenched shirt at the hospital, it had also transformed those memories into scenarios that made him glad no-one was telepathically privy to his thoughts. Those dangerously appealing scenarios had resulted in a breath-stealing orgasm last night that paved the way for even more dangerous desires.

Grabbing the back of Keigo's shirt collar, Ichigo received a small smile of gratitude from Rukia as she made her way to her seat next to him.

Just shortly after Rukia took her seat, Ochi-sensei bustled into the room greeting everyone animatedly with a, 'Good morning all! Take your seats!'

Ichigo was thankful for the distraction.

The class, with a collective sigh of resignation, shuffled their way to their seats, noisily scrapping chairs along the floor as they slumped into their seats. Ochi-sensei didn't seem to be bothered by the obvious noise about her as she briefly glanced at the attendance roster and then the class, reconciling the count between the two.

Normally, the go-with-the-flow teacher didn't remark much on the varying levels of student attendance in her class, but her brow furrowed as she looked over the attendance sheet once more, her cursory glance skimming the section of the room Ichigo and his friends habitually inhabited.

"Hmmm," she started, almost to herself, "Looks like Ishida is still out…has anyone heard from him?"

After the brief silence that followed Ochi-sensei's inquiry concerning Ishida, Inoue was the one to speak up.

"There was an accident and Ishida-kun was in the hospital, but now he's at home."

The surprise was clearly written across Ochi-sensei's face. But she quickly composed herself, expressing her sympathy at Ishida's condition, yet also conveying her relief that he was recovering.

Ochi-sensei was not the only one affected by the news. The classroom was practically buzzing with nearly tangible intrigue. She tried getting the class to settle in and focus on the new chapter lesson they were scheduled to start that day in order to keep everyone on track for the pre-college testing that would be taking place in just a few months.

But it was a futile effort. The news of Ishida's hospital stay had set the rumor mill in motion.

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It had been an eventful day to say the least.

For a number of reasons.

Most pointedly, Ishida's 'accident' had become hot gossip, to which Ichigo could only snicker amusedly. He was sure the typically reserved Quincy would be horrified to know that he had been the focus of such widespread attention.

Possible explanations for the bow-wielder's predicament ranged from relatively standard to positively ludicrous. The most normal of the suggestions were of accidents involving some mode of transportation. Others proposed the idea that he had fallen down stairs, over a balcony, or some other high up place. But the one possible explanation, which was so preposterously ridiculous and eerily accurate at the same time, was that the top-ranked student of Karakura high was attacked.

And it spread like wildfire.

After the morning's revelation, the topic of conversation at any point of the day revolved around the cause of Ishida's absence. Whispers rippled out from the rumor nucleus of Ochi-sensei's classroom quickly and ferociously. By each subsequent class that day, more and more people kicked the news back and forth and into the next eager ear. Instructors were becoming increasingly frustrated as they tried to get their distracted students to engage in their lesson plans.

By lunch time, Ichigo was getting sick of hearing about it. His friends… well aside from Keigo, who practically thrived on gossip… all seemed to be pretty tired of it as well. Of course they had initially been surprised and concerned at the news, but constant speculations of Ishida's current medical status was not something that the Quincy's closest friends wanted to hear about all day. Despite their attempts to block out the majority of the onslaught, there was one rumor that caught their attention with how unnervingly spot-on it was.

It was actually Keigo who had excitedly contributed this newest and worrisome rumor. Ever the one for theatrics, the high school senior prattled on about some 'Phantom Swordsman', also asserting that he was "really getting tired of all the crazy fucks running around with magic swords", quickly adding a "no offense, Ichigo".

At first Ichigo was ready to dismiss Keigo. He, Rukia, and Ishida, the victim himself, had already ruled out the possibility of either Shinigami or Arancar being behind the attack. But apparently, the 'Phantom Swordsman' was a more prolific rumor than he had originally thought.

Not only had Tatsuki corroborated Keigo's account, but so had a number of their mutual classmates. None of them had actually encountered this specter, but each had recounted details that they had heard from a far greater number of people than just those in their group of friends. What had really caught Ichigo's attention, despite the growing number of witnesses among the student body, was Tatsuki's mention that some of Karakura High's staff had warned their students to be wary on their way home from school each day. She even mentioned that their coach had filed a police report after an encounter he had after cleaning up the field equipment after a late practice one day.

He gave a sigh as he and Rukia rounded the corner on their way home.

He peeked out of the corner of his eye as she clicked away on her soul pager. She was currently sending a report of their observations that afternoon. They had decided that they would send the information to be proofed by Urahara first before sending it off to Soul Society. Neither of them wanted to jump the gun on this one, each for their own reasons. Though admittedly, their reasons were mutually shared. Neither of them wanted to blow something, which could plausibly be just a hyped up rumor, out of proportion. Subsequently, neither one of them wanted to be separated again. Rukia's presence in Karakura technically was deemed active duty, as she was charged with seeing to Ichigo and his returning powers. But she currently was the only living world liaison to their particular region, so it would be very likely she would be recalled to Soul Society for debriefing.

"Sent." She broke the silence with a closing snap of her Soul Pager.

Ichigo nodded, his hands shoved in his pockets as they continued their trek home.

"I really hope whatever this 'Phantom' crap is, that it's nothing major. Last thing I need is more crazy in my life."

Hearing a light scoff beside him, he peered down at Rukia to find her giving him an amused before she playfully responded.

"Please. You were absolutely miserable without the crazy."

He stopped abruptly, his hand reaching out and grabbing her before she could unknowingly get to far ahead of him. He used the momentum with which she still moved to pull her flush to his body. A surprised gasp of his name was the only thing he heard before he lifted her chin, his thumb gently parting her lips, to seal them with his own.

It was a soft and lingering kiss, his tongue only lightly dancing against hers, before he pulled back resting his forehead against hers.

"I was miserable without _your_ crazy. Not that other shit."

He felt a warm puff of her breath as she exhaled a small laugh, her eyes closing before looking into his own again.

"Idiot."

He gave her a playful smirk before allowing himself to be pulled into another kiss.

She deepened the kiss, snaking her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, and molding her body more closely to his own. The environment about them was forgotten, as they continued to explore their physical affections. There was still a newness and uncertainty to their situation that Ichigo tentatively acknowledged. Mostly from the possibilities of what direction their affections were taking them. But there was also a quickly growing comfort from the kisses they have shared, and a common longing between them for more.

He smiled against her lips as she nipped at them, reluctance on both of their parts even as they silently acknowledged the necessity to part and continue on their way home.

"So, that's why you haven't been around lately."

Startled, both he and Rukia, still entangled, turned abruptly to the foreign voice that had interrupted their intimate reverie.

Several paces away stood Ginjou, wearing a peculiar expression.

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Phew! There you have it! And a little extra long, to make up for my lateness in posting it! :D

Let me know what you guys think!

Actually, I have a few questions for you guys :)

How do you feel about me adding different POV's? Or would you rather I keep it strictly Ichigo POV and Rukia POV?

(Note on the POVs: I have been using a kind of blend of a narrator/first person POV. So I can give you guys the general gist of the scenario and environment about the characters, AND simultaneously give a little insight to each characters internal musings. Incidentally, it is a bit more difficult to write that way, but it hits two birds with one stone.)

Have you guys discovered my little tricky nuance with the title word of the story? Or am I more sneaky than I think, hehe ;D

Do you guys have any more questions/comments/suggestions? Let me know! :D

Please review! I love hearing from you guys!

Much loves and hugs!

Mel


	4. Chapter 4

Hello Wonderful Readers!

I bring new-chapter-goodness for your reading pleasure!

Good news, guys! I just got the all clear from my academic advisor… and I FINALLY get to graduate with my BA! Omgoodness, I can't tell you how glad I am to finally be done with the college thing! Let the job-hunt commence… hehe…

I want to thank everyone for reading up to this point, reviewing, and adding this story to their favorites and alert subscriptions! Reviewers I'd like to thank: **Asasininja4827, 372259, anonymous, Itachi-niisan, SilverFlameHaze, bubbleboss1022, anononon, xtheBLEACHEDalchemistx, jtdarkman, IRForever ***hugs, girl!***, acetwolf94, lovemydogs82, **and** missblissx.**

I am sorry for not being able to send personal replies to you reviews, I've had some doctor stuff and interning, a big stained glass order, and two portrait commissions taking up my time. Not to mention being stranded at the local tire place because my rear tires were dry rotted, AND THEN just FOUR days later I had to take my car back because the battery was fried! *sigh* My wallet is so sad right now… Please know that I treasure each review! They really make my day, and give me the confidence to write my best for you guys!

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Bleach. *sigh*

Disclaimer 2: Mature language ahead. Reader discretion is advised.

Disclaimer 3: Mature content of the smexy nature. Reader discretion is advised, though loosely encouraged XD

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Ichigo landed in a crouch, one hand to brace himself while the other wielded his fullbring's compact blade. Taking advantage of the moment's reprieve from training, he pulled at the tight collar of his fullbring's physical manifestation that clung to his body like a dense armor. It had actually been several weeks since he had last trained with the other fullbringers, so naturally he had forgotten how restrictive it felt to combat, especially when he had been recently re-accustomed to the effortless ease of his shihakushō.

After overcoming the initial shock of having been caught with Rukia, the two of them had separated quickly, Ichigo stepping up to the plate as the impromptu intermediary with introductions. It had been quite awkward. He could tell that it was especially awkward for Rukia. Essentially, the awkwardness resulted from the compounded effect of having been flushed and flustered from the kisses they had been sharing, as well as being embarrassed from the unexpected intrusion by Ginjou on their private moment.

Upon introduction, Ginjou had craftily concealed the true nature of his association with Ichigo, claiming that he was a training partner at the local dojo they both frequented. Clearly, the man was under the impression that Rukia was just a girl from school that Ichigo had become involved with recently. Little did he know that Rukia was quite aware of his abilities, or the fact that Ichigo did not train at any dojo.

Ginjou had then asked, the amusement and something else Ichigo couldn't quite pin down in his voice, if he could 'steal Ichigo for a few hours.' His reasoning that he hadn't sparred with him in a few weeks.

Ichigo had been slightly nervous of Rukia's response, knowing how wary she still was of the fullbringers and their intentions towards him. But she surprised him, saying to go on ahead, that she had plans with some of the girls from class to go shopping. Whether or not this was true, was beyond Ichigo. But being the consummate actress that she was, it could very well have been her seizing the opportunity to escape the awkwardness that had enveloped the mostly empty street.

So that left Ichigo here in the abandoned building that the fullbringers had inhabited, sparring with Ginjou within the digital confines of Yukio's videogame.

From about twenty paces away in the deceptive vastness of the computerized space, Ginjou leaned on the hilt of his downward thrust blade. Ichigo didn't miss the shrewd look that the dark-haired man affixed him with, especially after looking up at the suspended neon display and seeing the ironically shorter power bar above said man.

"It's funny, Ichigo. You haven't sparred with your fullbring in nearly three weeks…" standing upright once more, he continued, "Last time, you could barely keep up, but now I'm the one breaking a sweat."

Shit. It hadn't occurred to him that there would be a noticeable change in his fighting stamina. He went into the current practice battle all out, his previous gauge of necessary exertion against Ginjou as his only past reference.

"I've been helping out after classes with the soccer team and Kendo club."

It was true. Maybe not one hundred percent true, but partial had to count for something.

Ginjou responded with a quirked eyebrow, the rest of his expression inscrutable. "Apparently. I know that you getting hot'n'heavy with that cute little thing you were tongue-fucking had nothing to do with it."

Ichigo couldn't help the bright flush that heated his face or the internal flinch at Ginjou's rather crude assessment of his and Rukia's earlier interaction. Nor could he keep his traitorous mind from wondering what else his tongue could fuck. But his errant thoughts were quickly interred to the back corners of his subconscious, the growing unease he felt at Ginjou's knowledge of the extent of his relationship with Rukia being a contributing factor.

Ichigo's face must have shown his pensive consternation, despite his attempts to conceal it, because Ginjou shook his head with an amused chuckle.

"It's been a few hours already, and I'm beat." Looking up into the black seemingly boundless expanse of the electronic space, Ginjou yelled over his shoulder, "Alright! Let us out!"

Ichigo felt the tension flow from his adrenaline saturated muscles as the dark environment de-pixilated around them. He let his fullbring reabsorb back into the condensed form of his substitute badge. He glanced about him, slightly disoriented at the brightness and actual physical presence of the walls around him, vaguely aware of Ginjou fullbring righting itself into the form of an x-shaped cross hanging from the chain about his neck.

Now, better accustomed to the tangible world about him, he had a keener awareness for his own personal space. And the sudden feeling of someone invading his personal space made him tense as he turned sharply to face the culprit.

Ichigo was met with furrowed brows on a frowning face, framed by pink pigtails.

"What 'cute little thing' was he talking about?" Riruka spat as she glared accusatorily at him.

"Uh…"

He wasn't expecting the weird girl to be all up in his face, only belatedly realizing that she must have heard Ginjou's comment.

"Leave him be, Riruka."

The slightly crazy pink-haired girl glowered in displeasure at her tall leader, but grudgingly acquiesced to the order, casting a longing but angry look at Ichigo that ultimately made him uncomfortable.

Shaking his head of the strange exchange he just managed to thankfully avoid, Ichigo looked down to the watch on his wrist to see that it was ten past midnight.

"Shit. I didn't need to be gone this long." He cursed, more to himself than anyone in particular.

He quickly gathered his things that he had haphazardly left lying on floor next to the couch that Yukio and Jackie were lounging on, and made a beeline for the exit. Just as he pulled the door to, about to stride into the empty hall, Ginjou's voice called out behind him.

"Don't be going MIA for another three weeks. Remember, the more you train with us, the sooner your shinigami powers return."

Ichigo froze a brief moment, hopefully brief enough that it was imperceptible to the other fullbringers. He had a worrisome feeling of having been caught red-handed, even though he knew that Ginjou had no way of knowing that his shinigami powers had already returned. He also had an inexplicable defensiveness well up inside him, as if… something within his subconscious was trying to warn him.

But he didn't give himself the time to linger on it, only wanting to get out of there before his nerves betrayed him. Giving a final nod of acknowledgement, Ichigo propelled himself through the doorframe, eager to get his ass home.

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She groaned in agitation as she rolled over in her spare bed in the room she shared with the twins. The clock read 1:47 in the morning. Looking across the room, she saw that the girls were fast asleep in their respective beds. With a heavy sigh, she flipped once more onto her back, staring at the ceiling. She wished that she was also fast asleep, but sleep proved elusive as thoughts of a certain orange-haired man kept filtering their way back into the forefront of her mind.

She could feel his reiatsu, the substantiality of it calmed to a steady hum that she could only assume meant that he, unlike her, was comfortably asleep.

Another agitated sigh escaped past her lips, abruptly puffing the lock of hair that normally fell across her face in the air. She was antsy. She had an inkling that the antsy feeling had everything to do with said orange-haired shinigami and the immensely satisfying tease of his tongue and lips earlier that evening. Being interrupted had certainly not given her the opportunity to simmer down from her worked up state. And so the feeling never abated, even after returning and dinner. Invariably, the more she tried to shake the feeling, the greater it grew.

Overcome with this unshakable sensation, she wasn't even aware of her actions. She wasn't aware of herself sitting up, standing, and making her way down the hall until she stood at his bedroom door, hand gripping the knob.

Heart racing, she slowly pushed the door open, peeking inside as it gave way.

Through the dim, moonlit space she saw him sprawled across his bed. She closed the door behind her as silently as possible and paused a moment, relishing the rare moment of utter calm that enveloped his body. He was normally always so tense, always on edge, even when life was easy. Seeing him so completely relaxed, without even the smallest ounce of tension pulling at his form, was seeing him most vulnerable.

It was a very intimate observation.

Without a noise, she approached the side of his bed. At a closer proximity, she was better able to admire the man he had become. He was bare-chested from the waist up, a pair of loose sweatpants slung low on his hips and a haphazardly draped sheet, were all that covered his lower half. Even in the pale, grey dimness of the darkened room, the richness of his tan skin illuminated the lines and contours of his well-toned physique. His expression did not hold its trademark scowl, rather his brow was relaxed, and she could better appreciate the strong line of his jaw. Not having changed much physically herself for a very long time, as it was common to all shinigami, the changes he had undergone really were striking.

Inhaling deeply, he shifted in his sleep, a fresh scowl marring his relaxed features. His breathing altered to a pace that bordered on consciousness, and with a flutter of his eyelids, his eyes opened and he blearily focused on her.

"Rukia?" his expression sleepy at first, quickly faded away into one of surprise and concern, "What's wrong?"

She merely shook her head as her only indication that there was no pressing emergency. As he sat in a more upright position, a confused look spread across his face. Rukia silently knelt on the edge of his bed with her one knee closest to him brushing against his thigh.

She watched as his eyes traveled down her form, lingering briefly on her chest before they met hers again, an unsure eagerness in the depths of his gaze. A sudden uncertainty of her own washed over her. She wasn't sure where to go from there at that moment, anymore than she was certain of what had driven her to Ichigo's room in the first place.

Warmth brushed against her cheek as his hand tucked her loose hair behind her ear to better see her face. At that touch, her eyes met his, the earnestness in his gaze urging her to dispel her mental tension.

She wasn't sure who leaned in first, but she could feel a new and welcomed sensation of relief flow through her every limb as their lips met. Along with the fleeting tension, her body melted against his as she allowed him to pull her astride his lap. All the while their lips never parting.

His kisses were soft at first. A smile graced her lips as he teased them, nipping and licking. She could feel his own smile against her lips, and she responded with a nip of her own before seeking his tongue. And the moment their tongues met, a heat began to build. A heat that was quickly transcending the unspoken boundaries that had always defined their relationship, even more so than their previous heated encounters. A heat that was mutually wanted and intimately shared.

Their lips parted, just barely, for a much needed breath. In that brief parting her senses, that had been so enveloped in their kiss, were becoming highly attuned to every little touch. At that moment, she could feel his fingers pressing into the skin at her hips, having slipped under the fabric of her tank top. Her eyes met his as she threaded her fingers through the locks of his wild hair, bringing them even closer.

She could not hold back the gasp that escaped her lips as his own began to trail a path of kisses down her neck. Never having really shared this kind of intimacy with another before, at least never having gone this far, aside from a few clumsy exchanges with her red-haired and now currently tattooed best friend in their youth that had resulted in a strained awkwardness that persisted to this day, it was terrifying and thrilling all at once. It felt right, as nothing had before. She could feel it in the way his reiatsu caressed her own.

She clutched at his fiery locks, pulling his face about to meet hers, claiming his lips with a tenacity of desire that overwhelmed her all the more. As faint as her thoughts were to the mounting sensations stirred within her, she was still aware of the scorching heat she felt as Ichigo's strong hands smoothed up the skin of her back in an effort to grasp her closer to his body. She moaned involuntarily as his eager gesture brought her hips to align with his own, his very apparent arousal pressed into her sending a shock of pleasure through her core.

The sensation was intense but fleeting, only returning she discovered, with another shift of her hips against his. She closed her eyes, her mind and thoughts becoming lost to all else as they were rapidly becoming consumed by the building sensitivity between her legs with each shift. She knew what she was seeking, having reached it on her own before. She could feel it mounting, along with her heart pounding in measure to the rocking of her hips. She could feel the wet warmth from her body as she pressed further to him beneath her.

She wasn't sure when his hand found her breast, but the sudden searing imprint of his palm massaging the sensitive flesh, his thumb brushing over the taut bud at its peak, nearly sent her over the edge. Her only response was another rock of her hips, her mouth fervently seeking his own.

A sudden jerk of his hips, and the very firm pressure of his hardness, caused their lips to part, a gasp escaping her. The pleasure was compounded now that his body rhythmically undulated with hers. She held him firmly, his grip on her just as desperately tight.

"Rukia.." his breath came in heavy pants against the side of her neck.

A cry left her as the tension finally broke, the pleasure that had accumulated, excruciating in its teasing duration, burst within her.

Her eyes flew open, the feeling so intense, only…

Bright, harsh light assaulted her vision from the ceiling above her. There was a periodic beeping near her head. It took her a few minutes to reconcile her surroundings. Though, reconciling her surroundings was quite disorienting for her, especially with her body still humming in the wake of climax.

She propped herself up, and rubbed to clear her sleep-clouded eyes. Looking about her she recognized the colors and furniture of the twins' room. Sunlight filtered in through the window that naturally partitioned the Yuzu-side from the Karin-side of the room. Neither one of the girls were present, Yuzu having already made up the blankets on her bed while Karin, as usual, left hers messy.

It was a dream.

Rukia couldn't help but sit there, her eyes unblinking as she took in the implications of her realization in stunned silence. Sitting up further, she tucked her sleep-mussed hair behind her ears. Her thoughts were in a million directions all at once.

An erotic dream.

Of Ichigo.

Her cheeks burned as her mind traitorously replayed the most poignant details, making her only too aware of the moist warmth between her thighs. A confounding sense of disappointment warred with the astonishment she felt at her own subconscious desires. A disappointment that it had not been real.

The door to the room opened suddenly, jarring Rukia from her stupor.

"Are you gonna turn that off, or are you gonna just sit there with that stupid look on your face?"

It took a few seconds for Karin's words to sink in, though she quickly slapped the alarm clock's off button when she realized that the contraption was still going off.

Karin's movements were the only noises in the now silent room. The dark-haired twin was already dressed for school, though she did not look in the least bit thrilled that she had to wear the standard girls uniform. She had apparently just gotten out of the bath as her hair was still wound up in a towel to absorb most of the excess water. Already dressed before she entered the room, she was currently fishing through her a drawer for the partner to the one sock she already held in hand. With a triumphant "aha!" she found said article and shoved the drawer closed with her hip.

The tomboyish girl plopped down on her bed none to gracefully, and Rukia found herself fixed by an inscrutable expression as Karin went about putting on her socks and shoes.

"What's wrong? Bad dream?"

She started at the question but quickly gave a jerky nod anyways, hoping that the shrug Karin shook off her shoulders meant that she wasn't going to press her as to why the dream bothered her so much. It apparently worked, because the younger Kurosaki merely told her that she 'better get moving, don't wanna be late.'

As the teenager left the room, ruffling the towel through her dark hair as she went, Rukia let out a breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding. She was only grateful that Karin was not aware that her dream was in fact a good dream.

A _very _good dream.

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It was midweek when Ishida returned to classes.

As Ichigo predicted, the Quincy was besieged by a barrage of inquisitions regarding his injuries and subsequent absence. It was also predictably amusing to watch the flustered bow-wielder try to avoid the onslaught. The best thing of all was that practically everyone in the class was so preoccupied with Ishida, that Ichigo was pretty much left alone while he waited for class to start.

It took a nice firm yell from Ochi-sensei to get everyone's attention away from the bespectacled and clearly frazzled student, but once the rest of the class had unenthusiastically succumbed to their instructor's demand, class was finally underway.

He was currently in the middle of reading ahead for the next section that they were slotted to cover. Over the better part of the last two years, he had picked up the habit of doing so. It had become a very necessary distraction to keep his mind from… dwelling into dark territory. Filling his head with facts and knowledge was an effective manner of staving off the insistent 'what-ifs' that had plagued his mind.

Those 'what-ifs' were plentiful and varied. But they all had one thing in common.

That commonality, he could see from the corner of his eye, was presently twitching her leg anxiously, looking at the textbook in front of her, but not actually seeing it.

She had been acting… differently for the past few days. Something was distracting her, and whatever it was didn't start until the day after he trained with Ginjou. Yet, despite the fact that she was clearly preoccupied, her response to Hollow attacks and her ability to focus and deal with them were just as effective as ever.

Maybe even a little too effective.

On the occasions when they had been together during the hollow attacks, they both slipped from their physical bodies. Rukia was able to use her zanpakutou to battle the bad spirits while he had the opportunity for a little field practice with his kido. After the first few practice shots Rukia generally finished off the hollows with icy precision.

Ichigo really began suspecting that something was definitely off after one especially aggressive hollow vanquish when Rukia grabbed him by the cloth of his shihakushō and slammed him up against a nearby wall. Adrenaline still coursing through his system, he thought that she was about to beat the shit out of him for who knows what reason. He had prepared himself for a kick to the shin, a smack to the head, or a jab to the ribs. So he was understandably surprised when the body part that attacked him was her lips on his own.

It had been the first time that they shared a kiss while in soul form. It had also been completely and far more overwhelming than any kiss they had shared, to the point that he wasn't even able to consider the implications of why it was so. He only knew that it had left him feeling like the connection he knew they always shared was something even more irrevocably intertwined than he had ever thought.

He was remembering every little detail, every single sensation that was now permanently seared in his soul, when his memory of that night was abruptly halted as the very subject of his recollections stood up, books already in hand, and rushed from the room.

Ochi-sensei, as per usual, called out, "Where are you going, Kuchiki!"

The petite raven-haired shinigami offered only a one-word response of 'restroom' over her shoulder on the way out.

Ichigo stared at the door she just exited in confusion. He didn't sense any hollows. True, he was still getting back into the swing of things, but still he would have heard something. If not his badge, that still served its purpose, would have gone off and it didn't. His befuddlement grew as he glanced inconspicuously towards his fellow hollow fighting companions only to find similarly confused expressions on each of their faces. He looked to Ishida, raising a brow in question. Out of the lot of them, Ishida was the most adept at sensing spiritual beings of any kind. But even now, all the Quincy offered was a shake of his head indicating that he did not sense anything either.

It was all he could do to keep himself in his seat when he really wanted to follow after Rukia. Twitching his own leg anxiously, much the same way as Rukia had been before her harried departure, he looked at the clock every few minutes, willing its consistent mechanisms to turn the minute hand faster to the hour in which the lunch signal would ring out.

When it did sound, he sprang from his seat and rushed to the door faster than the students around him could even close their books. He slipped out the door and raced down the hall, trying to feel for Rukia's reiatsu. Feeling for reiatsu was not one of his strong suits, but he was so finely tuned to Rukia when she was in any form of distress, that he immediately picked up on her agitation radiating above him.

He made it to the stairwell just as students started spilling into the hallway in their own mad dash for either the cafeteria or their favorite lunch spots. When he burst through the door that opened onto the school's rooftop his worry was quickly transitioned to surprise as small hands grabbed him by his shirt and the nape of his neck. He nearly lost balance from the strength with which she molded herself to his taller frame. His only reaction was to wrap his arms around her and lean back against the doorframe behind him.

"Hey…" he managed around her lips, even as her tongue sought out his.

Bringing his hands to her face, he traced his fingers across her cheeks, placing a thumb coming between their lips separating them even though he was so very tempted to give in to her pleasing entreaty.

"Rukia."

He gave her a questioning look when her eyes met his, silently imploring the reason for the tenacity with which she was making advances. Twice now she had literally jumped him. Not that he minded. In fact, deep down it gave him a very strong sense of male pride to know that she was so…enthusiastic. Yet there was another part of him that, despite his natural urges, reluctantly acknowledged the need to not rush things.

"I want more, Ichigo."

He froze. His mind wasn't entirely sure how to process her breathy declaration. He found himself searching her face, her eyes, for any indication that he had heard her correctly.

Her eyes looked up at him from under her full, dark lashes. Their blue-violet depths were swirling with a multitude of emotions. Each one fluttered within her expression before taking up a look of mischievousness. Fingers that had been clutching the shirt at his chest loosened their grip and began a teasing trek down his torso. His eyebrows rose and his breath caught in his throat when the dangerous digits did not stop as they reached the waist of his pants. Up to that point, his mind might not have been able to fully process her intentions, but his cock had no problem.

"Aa…" he barely managed, his body tensing uncontrollably, "me too."

It took nearly all of the willpower he could muster to pull her hand from its intimate contact with his very… responsive anatomy.

"But… not out here," he could see her cheeks begin to flush, her eyes averting themselves from his gaze as embarrassment and disappointment clouded her expression.

Placing his fingers at her chin, he tilted her face towards him again, eyes intensely trying to convey the conviction that couldn't be put into words, "We got time."

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught his and Rukia's attention, causing them both to start. If his senses weren't so attuned to the woman in his arms at that moment, Ichigo might have been irritated at having been interrupted yet again.

"Unless you want to be discovered, I suggest you two right yourselves." Ishida looked off to the side uncomfortably, "they've all decided to have their lunches up here today."

It took Ichigo a minute to realize that the Quincy was referring to their group of friends. He and Rukia separated, albeit reluctantly. Looking in her eyes, a sort of silent acknowledgement passed between them that they weren't ready for everyone to know yet. They were still just beginning to really define how intimate their relationship was, and express how intimate they wanted to be. The fact that Ishida now knew was disconcerting enough. He shuddered to think of the earful he'd get from Tatsuki. Or worse…from Keigo.

Right then, he didn't know whether to be pissed at Ishida for interrupting them, or grateful that the bow-wielder had essentially spared them a plethora of attention they were definitely not ready for. Despite their camaraderie, he and Ishida weren't exactly best friends forever. Ichigo knew that given the opportunity, Ishida would use whatever advantage he gained against him. With that in mind, he also suspected that Ishida didn't warn them of their approaching companions out of any sense of charity. Damn Quincy.

Sitting next to Rukia, he absentmindedly listened to their friends as they filtered through the doorway onto the rooftop gossiping on the latest rumor spreading about the 'Phantom Swordsman'. He was thankful no one paid any attention to him, or questioned him about his or Rukia's absent lunches. He was also thankful that their gossip was proving to be somewhat interesting. Hopefully the more he listened, the less he would think about where his and Rukia's mutual decision would lead, because he really didn't want to suffer the rest of the day. He was hard enough already.

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By the end of the week, Ichigo was rather glad that the mysterious 'Phantom Swordsman' was again causing a fuss, not only around Karakura High, but the whole town itself. Though, most of the activity was in connection to the students and faculty of the educational establishment. Not that he wished ill upon anyone. It was just a very convenient, much needed and rather welcome distraction to the… other things… that wanted to dominate his hormonally driven mind.

Ever since that lunch break on the roof top just a few days ago, ever since he and Rukia established their want to take the next step, neither one had any opportunity to think on it, talk about it… much less act on it. The gossip about the armed specter had swelled as more and more students reported to have either seen the apparition, claimed to have been attacked, or knew someone that had been assaulted. Rukia was too busy compiling another report on the spike in the number of incidents with the unknown culprit. He had been harangued by his crazy, psycho boss at Unagiya Shop due to his most recently neglectful regard of his increasingly tenuous job position. He had to go over and smooth the deranged shop owner's ruffled feathers that he wasn't going to quit, but that he had been overrun lately with all his responsibilities and just needed to cut back on his hours a bit.

Naturally he left out the fact that he had supernatural abilities and that he was really missing work to strengthen said abilities. Like tonight, as he and Rukia made their way once more to Urahara's.

Entering the shop, they received an angry expletive, "Ah dammit…" along with an exasperated, pissed-off, and wary glare from the still freshly shorn red-headed teen. No doubt the kid was remembering their last training session.

A hand clapped down firmly upon Jinta's shoulder, effectively silencing any further griping the teenager might have offered.

"Don't worry, Jinta-kun. Ichigo will just be training with Kisuke today." Yoruichi soothed, although there was an underlying amusement that couldn't quite be contained, "Besides, don't you still have inventory to do?"

Ichigo tried to tamp down his own amusement as the snotty boy's face paled at the mention of the task Yoruichi mentioned.

"But that could take all night!"

"Then you better get at it." The cat-like woman gave him a not-so-gentle shove in the direction of the shop's storeroom.

The three shinigami, former and current, watched Jinta until the sound of his grumbling receded down the hallway. They remained as they were until a chuckle from Yoruichi sounded from behind him and his own shoulder now found itself in a firm grasp before being gently shoved the opposite way down the same hallway.

"Go ahead down to the training grounds, Kisuke should already be down there."

He started down the hallway as she instructed. But not before casting a questioning glance at Rukia.

"We'll be down there in a bit," Yoruichi offered a wink as she draped an arm around Rukia's shoulders, "We're just gonna have a little girl talk."

He watched as they turned the same way Jinta had disappeared, his brow unknowingly creased in an incredulous expression before he turned himself to head in the direction of the underground training facility, not exactly sure how worried he should be. He couldn't imagine what Yoruichi and Rukia would be discussing. Hell… he couldn't even imagine Rukia taking part in a girl talk.

Continuing down the hallway, his path committed to memory from his many visits, while his mind was occupied with improbable scenarios of what young men typically imagined about girl talk.

Turning the appropriate corner, still befuddled and slightly intrigued as to what sort of conversation was transpiring between the two women at the opposite end of Urahara Shoten, Ichigo was startled at a sudden exclamation from a room he was just passing. Normally, he would have just continued on his way, as shouting and sudden exclamations were not an unusual sort of thing one encountered at the former shinigami captain's residence. But his own name mixed in such heated verbal exchange was enough to make his stop, ear to the thin sliding partition.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

That was clearly Urahara. The intonation very distinguishable.

"He has a right to know!"

But this voice was a surprise, even despite its unmistakable familiarity. His father rarely took that sort of tone with anyone. It was beyond his comprehension as to what would make the old man proclaim so vehemently. His curiosity had taken a swift turn from imagining what women really gabbed about during girl talks, to instantly wondering what the hell Urahara and his dad were arguing about.

"True." The uncanny shop owner conceded. Ichigo could imagine the serious expression the man must be wearing, because his tone became more somberly focused, less flippant, "but you know how he is. You know how he would react."

"Of course I know, he's my son after all."

"Then you also know that he's not ready in his current state."

Ichigo expected his father to respond, but his ears were met with silence. He kept completely still. Obviously whatever he came across was not something he was meant to hear, and a natural aversion to being caught eavesdropping had him debating whether or not he should make a bee-line for it or stay and find out more.

His decision, however, was made for him as his father uttered in a barely audible and defeated tone of voice, "I should have told him a long time ago."

What the fuck were they talking about?

"You weren't in any position to tell him a long time ago."

Another quiet pause stretched out without any speaking, and Ichigo waited a little longer, enough to determine that the discussion was at an end. With a whole new set of concerns flooding his already over-occupied mind, he hurried the rest of the way to his destination.

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Uh-oh! What secret is Isshin keeping from Ichigo?

And, my, my, my! Rukia's got a dirty mind! Or maybe that's me…since I wrote it! Hehe *grins evilly* Things are starting to heat up for our favorite pair!

Please review and let me know what you think! This was my first venture into writing something lemon-y. I've written citrus-y stuff before, but haven't quite taken the leap to writing more…naughty stuff. I must admit, it was a bit more challenging than I anticipated! I had to step away from the computer a few times to calm myself down, haha! XD

Also, a little note concerning that nature of Ichigo and Rukia's relationship and interactions thus far:

So, my thoughts on why a kiss in soul form would be so overwhelming for Ichigo, is that his human body acts as a sort of buffer. It is also part of the reason why Rukia wants more with Ichigo. She feels 'unsatisfied' because of the 'buffer' that is her gigai).

Ichigo and Rukia are very strong souls/spirits/shinigami. In my thought and writing process, such intimacy in soul form would be even more…well, intimate. To the point of high vulnerability. Rukia is more aware of it, having lived as a shinigami for nearly all of her existence. There is also the semi-feudal style structure of Soul Society that serves as a sort of 'social deterrent' to rampant displays of indiscriminant intimate affection. But for Ichigo, having lived in a physical body all his life, despite the high frequency of exiting it, it's as if he is completely bare to the feelings, sensations, emotions, etc.

Soooo… Next time, more action in store for our favorite shingami! And more antics as Ichigo considers the responsibility of safe-sex!

Please let me know what you guys think! I love hearing from you! *big hugs*


	5. Chapter 5

Hello and hugs to my most wonderfully awesome and fantastic readers!

I'm really sorry for not updating sooner! But, this is an extra long chapter!

I've had some medical stuff going on. I started a weight-loss program through a doctor ( yes, I'm admitting it, I need to lose some weight) and they started me out on an appetite suppressant that helps you curb your cravings, etc. Well, let's just say the suppressant was NOT for me, it raised my blood pressure, and heart rate (like over 100 beats a minute!) and I started having panic attacks.

Needless to say, I stopped the suppressant, and everything is back to normal. I am proud to say that I have been able to maintain the diet portion and have lost 25lbs so far and 6 inches off my waist! I'm so excited! And I feel so much better!

More good news! I'm done with the college thing! Just waiting for my university to send me my diploma! :D

Oh! Avengers! It bears mentioning! I assume y'all have seen it by now. The epic awesomeness that is the Avengers! I've seen it like 5 times already haha! Loved it each and every time! And omg! I heart Captain America so hard it's not even funny! Or maybe it is, I dunno lol! But seriously, Chris Evans is so fucking gorgeous as Cap! I could watch him punch that punching bag over and over... Okay I'll stop fan-girling now *blushes*

I tried to reply to all the reviews for this chapter, but I may have gotten off track when I had to go to the doctor. Please know that I LOVE your reviews! Thank you everyone! So much! Seriously! You guys really, truly, honestly give me the motivation and also inspiration (I do pick up good ideas from you guys! So definitely let me know what you are thinking and leave suggestions!) *hugs to all*

On a side note, and as a treat to you fantastic readers, I have been working on an IchiRuki drawing that I think you guys will like *winkwink* Its almost done, and I will post it on deviantart for y'all to see. It will probably have to have a mature content filter on it (don't worry it's tasteful!) and you need to be a dA member to view mature content art, so if you don't have a deviantart account, you can sign up for free. If you want to check out any of my current artwork, Bleach included, go to melibells . deviantart . com, no account necessary :)

Okay, on with the chapter! I hope you like it! It was a tough one for me to write and get to a point where I was happy with it! I'm not an expert at fight scenes so let me know what you think!

3

Mel

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She was slightly afraid to touch the delicate fabric, afraid that her fingernails would catch on the sheer material. So she held the garment as tentatively as possible between her thumbs and forefingers, peering through the lacy panel at the purple-haired woman across from her.

"I fail to see how this… bra," she tried out the word, drawing out the pronunciation due to unfamiliarity, "will conceal my breasts."

Her scrutiny of the lingerie in question was, in fact, due to her still vivid memory of the recent faucet incident. More specifically, it was it light of her very detailed recollection of a certain orange-haired shinigami's reaction to said incident.

It began last week, her search for a solution to problem of her apparently inadequately confined bosom. Actually, she had taken the opportunity after the nerve-wracking kido training to talk to Yoruichi about the focus of Ichigo's… transfixion. She could've spoken beforehand with any one of the number of human females that she was acquainted with, but she had an inexplicable feeling of unease at the thought of discussing such personal matters with anyone that didn't fully understand her Shinigami background. Certainly, Inoue was an anatomically proper candidate in helping her. But there was a suppressed affection towards her cantankerous partner that the girl harbored, that would ultimately lead to unbearable awkwardness.

Hence, she asked Yoruichi for her advice to avoid such wet-shirt incidents in the future. Not that she minded Ichigo's visual appraisal… the mere thought of it, bringing a flush to her cheeks. But she certainly did not want the situation to repeat itself in front of any other males she saw on a semi-regular basis.

Therefore, that lead to now, as she still held the supposed solution carefully, an expression on her face that bordered the line between skepticism and embarrassment.

At Yoruichi's chuckle, Rukia couldn't help but bristle somewhat defensively, the already present blush on her face deepening and spreading further.

"Well… these are better for covering things up," the cat-like woman gestured to an array of similar garments, though none fabricated with material as revealing as the one Rukia still held in her hands.

Actually, nearly all of the ones displayed on the low table before her, were constructed of far more sturdy and decidedly opaque fabrics. A number of them did have some lace trimming or other like intricate decoration, but a solid amount were unadorned with any such accoutrements, aside from color.

"And this one?" she indicated the one she still held with a brow-raised nod of her head.

"That one is for… special occasions."

The way in which the feline woman said 'special occasions'… with a devious half smirk and an all too suspicious twinkle in her eye, Rukia had a feeling what she was alluding to. And it only served to make the already prominent blush she sported all the more vibrant.

Regarding the bra with knowledge that its purpose was not as practical as the others… well, at least for other more indecent reasons, fueled a new train of unbidden thoughts within her mind.

It had never occurred to her that she would actually need to wear something for that type of… special occasion. In the culture she had known all of her existence, she assumed the proper attire for that type of special occasion was, well… nothing at all.

And amidst her freshly rampant thoughts, a sudden realization struck her. A realization that sent a curiously pleasing yet startling sensation low in her abdomen. She had never had any cause to consider such special occasions, and she definitely never before had to consider the Living World's customs that accompanied such special occasions.

But one thought of Ichigo triggered an avalanche of memories. Memories that spanned the time of their relationship. Memories that meant so much to her, from their first meeting, to her very memorable rescue, to his lost and regained powers, and all the moments between. All of these memories made her realize that she very much had reason to consider sharing special occasions with someone. And that a distinctly orange-headed man was that reason, that someone.

Looking once more at the intimate garment in her grasp, she saw it in a whole new respect. Most specifically because she wondered what Ichigo would think. If his reaction to her wet shirt several weeks ago was any indication to go by, then sheer and lacy feminine undergarments would surely…

A sudden rumble under her feet brought her attention back from where it had so willingly wondered away with her thoughts.

"I guess we better get down there before the boys beat each other up too badly." Yoruichi sighed as she stretched lazily.

Rukia didn't react as leisurely as Yoruichi had. She was actually rather concerned as to what could have produced such a noticeable tremor from so far under the bedrock. True, Ichigo's use of Kido was a bit more highly concentrated than most Shinigami. But even now, in his current state, with the limited amount of training he had undergone, he shouldn't be able to produce a blast so strong. Unless Urahara progressed him even further than she had. But they just started. A sudden powerful quake of such magnitude could only be caused within the earth itself, or...

Worry clouded her mind. She had to get to Ichigo.

"Oi! Don't forget your undies!"

She chose at that moment to vehemently ignore Yoruichi's protestation, Ichigo was far more important than lingerie.

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The moment Yoruichi had informed him that he'd be training with Urahara that day, he should've known, should've prepared himself for whatever crazy shit the eccentric shop owner would dish out. So he shouldn't have been surprised when the former shinigami captain, after only just entering the training grounds, suddenly launched at him, shikai drawn. But his mind had been preoccupied by a myriad of disparate thoughts, and he just barely managed to block the older man's strike with his own still dormant zanpakutou.

Even now, the impact of Urahara's forceful attack reverberated through the katana in his hands and traveled up his arms. Ichigo silently swore that he could feel every bone in his body, even his own teeth, rattling. He tried his best to not cow down to the unbearable weight and pressure emanating from Benihime. But he'd also forgotten how deceptively strong Urahara was and couldn't help but brace himself, his knee touching down to bear the brunt of his weight.

He took the brief moment of reprieve, in which Urahara thankfully withdrew his blade, to quickly put some distance between the unpredictable man and himself. His wrists ached from the strain he exerted in blocking the abrupt attack. But he was forced to ignore the pain as the former shinigami captain came at him again, the swing of the blade at an awkward angle that Ichigo had to take an even more awkward stance and twist his arms, bringing his own blade around just barely in time to defend. Even in the unwieldy manner that Urahara executed this newest assault, his strike was just as powerful.

Ichigo held him off, even though the muscles in his wrists and arms were screaming in protest. As he stood, he was at a disadvantage. His arms and torso warped into this strange position would not hold. He could feel his body's protest, and for fear of injury he leapt back, his feet carrying him swiftly backwards in retreat.

"Tsk, tsk, Kurosaki-san," the shop owner's expression partially hidden under the brim of his hat, "It seems that you have forgotten your past lessons."

Past lessons? What about current ones? Last time he checked he was supposed to be intermittently learning kido while he also attempted communicating with his zanpakutou.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded, confused.

The former shinigami simply ignored him, approaching at a casual pace. Ichigo kept his eyes focused on the man's blade, his awareness heightened to any tiny little shift that would indicate another attack, even though the deceptively unassuming weapon was propped casually against the shop owner's shoulder, the flat side of the blade tapping periodically.

Ichigo continued to watch warily as Urahara come to a stop about ten paces away. Already on edge, he was naturally startled when the eccentric man finally spoke with a seemingly disappointed shake of his head.

"You could have attacked me just now, Ichigo. Instead you stand there fearing what my next move will be."

"No fucking shit!" he exclaimed, the absurdity of Urahara's statement combined with the obviousness of his own predicament, warranted no less a reaction, "I can't exactly use my zanpakutou right now!"

But Urahara didn't seem fazed by his outburst. Instead, the man was annoyingly dismissive of his situation, shaking his head as if he was really the one aware of the obviousness, and not Ichigo.

"Ah, see that's where you are mistaken…"

Before he could even respond, Urahara's blade was swinging down upon him again. And again, he just barely managed to parry the sudden charge. Though, this time it felt as if the metal of his weapon would shatter under the weight of the attack.

He remembered the times that his zanpakutou had broken before, and in that moment, the fear of losing his powers once more, especially so soon, outweighed the fear of any kind of physical harm. And so he lowered his blade, the action made all the more swift by the violent pressure of his opponent's thrust. The displacement of resistance also brought down Urahara's blade much faster and more forceful than if he had landed the blow without deflection to begin with, and left a searing gash from Ichigo's shoulder to mid-chest.

In the moments after Urahara's blade pierced his skin, the pain that should have registered in his mind was superseded by something else. It was sharply strong, and growing stronger. And its familiarity thrummed within the blade he still in his weakened grasp.

"Now we're on the right track."

Still confused, he looked down at the katana, and saw that it was now emitting a steadily pulsating blue energy. His eyes widened. He had not had any success in getting any sort of progress with Zangetsu since his powers were restored. The old sword spirit had been resolutely stubborn in perpetuating the silent treatment. Naturally, the unexpected resonation caught him completely off guard, in the middle of a fight no less.

His heart pounded. He had been waiting for the moment when he would be able to wield Zangetsu as he used to. Every time he shifted into his soul form and looked at the mocking katana sheathed at his hip, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Even though he didn't regret saving three fucking worlds, he did regret the price he had to pay to do so.

He waited, expecting something to happen, expecting his blade to take its permanent shikai form. But nothing happened. And the pulsating energy started to gradually fade. Disappointment warred with a stubbornly clinging glimmer of hope. It was so close, and then it was gone. But it was something.

"Interesting."

He turned at the sound of Urahara's voice, his wariness returning at the calculating look that unfurled on his partially hidden face. Ichigo always had a bad feeling when it came to that look. It usually meant the crazy ass shop owner was planning something devious. But he didn't have a chance to speculate.

"Ichigo!"

His head whipped around in the direction Rukia's voice had called to him. She was running towards them, a confused and worried expression on her face, Yoruichi not far behind her. He watched as her eyes focused, widening further as her concern grew.

"What happened?" she demanded, her brows furrowing as she looked between him and Urahara, frowning at the sight of their withdrawn blades, "What is going on?"

A muscle in his chest twitched involuntarily sending a stinging pain through his nerves.

He looked down, realizing what was causing her worry.

He was just about to call out to her that he was fine, when a multitude of things that happened in rapid succession seemed to occur all at once.

Feeling a crackle and a flash of severely concentrated energy, he looked out of the corner of his eye, and started as it surged from beyond his right shoulder in a wicked red beam. As it passed him the air popped and sizzled, sparks of the crimson energy snapping painfully at his exposed skin. His eyes instinctually followed as it passed. The line that his eyes had drawn for him showed him its trajectory, and his face paled as he saw its intended target.

Rukia froze, her face panic stricken as she realized the red beam was headed straight for her. His own horror mounting as it raced towards her.

He didn't even realize he was doing anything. Nor did he realize any more activity from his zanpakutou. He was only aware of a nearly blinding flash of blue-ish white light intercepting the red energy, deflecting its beam away from Rukia to hit with a loud and destructive explosion several seconds later in a distant corner of the massive underground chamber.

After everything had settled, the bright flare had faded, and the cacophony of chaotic noise muted down to an unstirring silence, Ichigo immediately spotted Rukia and ran to her.

He reached for her, his palm gently at her cheek, guiding her gaze to his. Her eyes were wide, she moved her lips as if to speak, but made no sound.

"Rukia." He stated simply. He did not need to ask if she was alright, the invocation present in the single word of her name.

"Ichigo." His own name fell from her lips in a shaky whisper.

"I…I'm fine."

He was about to ask her if she was really fine, as her quavering voice hinted otherwise. But she said something else, this time astonishment present in her hushed tone.

"Zangetsu…"

Ichigo stilled at her utterance of his Zanpakutou's name, completely thrown for a loop.

Looking to her face, his eyes imploring, he found her staring downward, transfixed. He followed her line of sight, and found his own astonishment at the sight of his tightened grip on the hilt of Zangetsu's imposing dark metal blade.

In his shock, he found himself unable to speak. Even the effort of producing unintelligible noise was effectively hindered.

Many questions as to why Zangetsu decided to reappear darted through his mind. Especially after so many weeks, so many attempts during meditation that yielded nothing but a continually uncooperative sword spirit and a disgruntled Ichigo.

Rotating his wrist, he turned the wide, elongated expanse of his zanpakutou flat-side up. The length of the weapon seemed the same. The weight was familiar…perhaps slightly lighter. Perusing further down the longitude of the dark metallic surface, the overall shape was the same. But the form had a few changes that made it appear more… menacing.

The purposeful fall of footsteps broke into his quiet survey of his returned zanpakutou. Lifting his gaze, he saw Yoruichi stalking her way to him, and at her approach, stalking right past him.

He turned, noticing Rukia mirror his action out of the corner of his eye, and watched as the tall woman finished her threatening trek, stopping just before Urahara to land a loud slap on the man's face.

"Ahh! Yoruichi-san!" the man whimpered, crouching down to cradle his abused cheek.

Ichigo couldn't help but stare as he witnessed the interaction of the two former shinigami. Yoruichi was _pissed_. He made a mental note to never get on her bad side.

"What the hell were you thinking, Kisuke? Pulling a stunt like that!"

His brows furrowed at her reprimand. The pieces abruptly clicking together in his brain as to what had just transpired, now that his focus wasn't so frazzled.

That son of a bitch.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"That's beside the point! What if it hadn't? You obviously didn't think it through!" she fired at her idiotic friend furiously before pausing briefly and casting a look back at him and Rukia, "You know, if Ichigo wants to beat the shit out of you, I'm not gonna stop him. You deserve it."

Anger, actual anger began to build up inside him as the scenario grew clearer and clearer. The bastard had just used Rukia as fucking bait.

Before he knew it, he found himself stalking forward as Yoruichi continued to berate the dumbass. He stopped once he reached them, just in time for them to acknowledge his presence, and without a second thought, landed a fist to Urahara's jaw with a satisfying crunch. He didn't even remain to hear whatever protestation the fucking jerk started to make. He simply turned back the way he'd come, grabbed Rukia's wrist on the way, and made his exit.

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Quietly, she shut the window behind them after they entered his room, hearing Ichigo give an exhausted and heavy sigh of exasperation. The sound, a mixture of discontent and relief, was quickly followed by the strain of his mattress as he abruptly slumped down on its surface. She didn't blame him for his agitation, because she was feeling the same way.

Her own heavy sigh escaped her lungs while she dropped the bag of feminine undergarments Yoruichi had managed to slip into her free hand before they hastily left Urahara's at the side of the bed. She sat beside him while the events from just a few hours ago replayed in her mind with vivid clarity now that she had the advantage of retrospection.

"What the fuck was that idiot thinking?"

The brusqueness of his inquiry broke through the silence that they had maintained all the way back home. And even though it was put forth as a question, Rukia knew it was rhetorical in nature, just him thinking aloud in his frustration. Yet, she shook her head anyways, the action nearly involuntary from her lingering annoyance at one Urahara Kisuke, and his irrefutable culpability in causing the mayhem prior that evening.

Both of them now recognized that the selectively unscrupulous former captain had targeted her, most likely in an effort to bring out a reaction from Ichigo's uncooperative zanpakutou. Yet they still both wondered why, especially considering the fact that he was supposed to be continuing on with the kido training, not to mention he had acted so suddenly. The older shinigami was normally and characteristically sporadic, but even this was uncharacteristically random for him.

She shook her head, as if trying to dispel any and all stubbornly immovable reflections from her mind. Looking over, she noticed her orange-haired partner raking his fingers through his unruly hair, in a similar effort to ease the tense frustration that was understandably difficult to shake off in the wake of that evening's insanity. But his accompanied grimace informed her that he immediately regretted the action, unable to conceal the reaction, as pain spread across his chest in the area in which he was wounded by Urahara.

"You should let me heal that," she spoke up, breaking the short silence.

He merely gave her a look that said 'I'm fine' with an underlying 'I'm tired, just let me go to bed.'

Scoffing in amusement, she smirked, "Don't give me that look, besides I don't want to hear you complaining to me about it later."

He turned abruptly at her subtle teasing jibe, hissing through clenched teeth in the process. She raised a brow in question at his compromised refusal, while trying to stifle the chuckle that threatened to escape.

"Fine." He grumbled his acquiescence, before looking off to the side with a look of irritable embarrassment on his face.

He then began absentmindedly unfastening the buttons of his shirt, no doubt used to the detached scrutiny of being healed.

In the past, she had been the healer, before Inoue's healing powers proved far more expedient than her kido. And she had always regarded her grumpy companion professionally, with an air of said detachment, as was only appropriate for any shinigami. Even while she had been stranded for committing what had ultimately become an egregious crime in the eyes of Soul Society. She still honored her culture, even when her indiscretion cost her so greatly.

However, things change. In fact, they had been forever changed that night she gave him her powers. She just didn't recognize it at the time, the shift so gradual over the years, that it now took her by surprise as she watched, enraptured, while he continued the path down his shirt. Detachment quickly becoming a concept foreign to her as her mind was swept away with tempting possibilities.

But he stopped suddenly, an electric pause between them, as the same realization came over him. She could tell his reaction was the same when he looked up and locked his gaze with hers as if looking for any indication of doubt within her very being.

They remained this way, at this brief impasse, knowing that this was not the same experience it had always been before. And that it would never be as it was again, because the precipice was behind them now. It was exciting, and though they were a little scared, they didn't want to, nor would they ever go back to the way things were. They were definitely more than friends, and their shared journey in this, would show them how much more.

Her heart, it's pace already quick, started beating even more rapidly when Ichigo resumed unbuttoning his shirt. Though his movements were tentative and unsteady, and mirrored the uncertainty in his eyes that he visibly tried to conceal. He was trying to act like their situation was nothing new, that they weren't treading into uncharted territory.

Taking in a shaky breath, she tried to do the same as she angled towards him, tucking one leg under the other in a sort of half crossed legged position. She couldn't deny that the thought and the promise of sharing more with him, what had already made her very essence feel so astoundingly alive, encouraged the already tenuous restraint of her eagerness to a dangerous extent. But she had a job to do now. She had to focus.

She reached forward and pushed the the open front of his shirt out of the way, exposing his tan skin marred by an ugly line of bruising, nearly black due to its depth. Urahara's strike must have been worse than she thought from her very brief original glimpse of its after effects. But leave it to Ichigo to suck it up, pretending to be stoic, and ignore something that clearly caused him obvious pain.

Gathering the spirit energy needed, she placed her hands just an inch or so above his injury and focused on easing the pain and inflammation. Her efforts wouldn't heal him completely, the kido spell worked at lessening, soothing, and healing the wound, not reversing it like Inoue's. But he would feel immensely better.

Looking up as the glow of her kido started fading away, she found his eyes closed in relief, and she indulged in the opportunity to simply observe him. Her hands hovered just above his skin, the heat from his body tangible even with the small distance bridged between her fingers and his chest. Her observation proved to be distracting, though, when she found herself as the center of his startled gaze.

His line of sight shifted down, and she found her own gaze traveling in tandem to see that her palms were now pressed to his flesh. In that single instant, her mind rushed to join the sensations surging through her fingers resting against the muscles of his chest. She could feel his heartbeat racing and was pretty sure hers was racing just as fast. Unsure of what she should do, if his startled look was because her touch was unwelcome, she hastily began pulling her hands away.

But it was her turn to become surprised when his own hands grasped hers, preventing their retreat.

He didn't say anything. He simply brought her hands to his lips, placing a kiss at the center of each palm, before pulling her body towards his and sealing her lips with another, far more passionate kiss.

She could feel the need in his kiss, the want in every stroke of his tongue against hers, and the budding desperation that stoked his building desire in the feel of his hands that now skimmed over the sides of her figure. He pulled back abruptly, resting his forehead against hers and his breath, heavy from their shared intimacy, puffed warm on her face.

"Rukia..."

Looking into his eyes, she nodded, an unspoken 'yes' to the beseeching of his intense gaze, and slowly began to work the buttons of her own shirt open.

She watched him as she continued, and vaguely noted the way in which he tried so hard, but failed to keep his eyes on hers. It was slightly amusing and arousing all at once, his attempt not to look, and only encouraged her further, even in light of her understandable apprehension at the newness of the situation. And once she finally reached the last button, she pulled lightly at the fabric, letting the sleeves slip from her shoulders to rest at her elbows.

The expression on his face, once he looked upon her naked breasts was priceless. His eyes were wide and focused, his face grew increasingly flushed, and the muscles in his neck tensed as he visibly swallowed whatever words that died on his tongue.

Taking the initiative in his obvious distraction, she leaned forward, surprising him once again. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she pulled him closer, kissing him slowly, deliberately.

Pulling back just slightly, her lips still touching his, she whispered, "Touch me, Ichigo."

His eyes connected with hers once the implications of what she said hit him. He looked hesitant, remaining motionless. She thought perhaps she had been too forward, that he was going to shy away, but she felt his warm digits touch in the safe territory of her of her waist.

Lips sought hers, and hands traveled slowly up her torso. She found herself melting at the tug of his kiss as he sucked on her bottom lip, and gasping as the hands that caressed her sides, now gently cupped her breasts, massaging the supple flesh. His touch was so hot compared to the air that cooled her skin, and she arched into his hands, pressing herself more fully into his palms.

This was far more thrilling than her dream had been. The spontaneity of one moment to the next was much more than just the undisclosed desires of her subconscious mind. Despite the fact that her dream had been unexpected...pleasantly unexpected, Dream Ichigo still had ultimately done what her mind wanted him to do. Her Ichigo, with her now, was touching her in ways that her mind wanted, but in no way could anticipate. Each new caress was an unforeseen delight to her aroused state of mind.

Right then, her mind was so attuned to the way his fingers slowly circled the firm peaks of her breasts, the action so stimulating she could already feel that familiar tingle settle low in her belly. That action was also so distracting that she didn't realize her back was against the mattress and Ichigo was above her, until she felt the weight of his body settle in the natural cradle of her thighs. She had no idea how or when her legs parted for him, only that it felt right. She could feel his arousal, and he was pressed into her just right, enflaming her own.

Her hands perused his body, leaving the their grip of his vibrant hair and trailing downwards. She knew that Ichigo was very fit, she had seen his body on the occasions that his shihakusho had been shredded in battle. But she had never truly appreciated the strength of his physique as she did now, her hands smoothing down the expanse of his broad shoulders and chest, mindful of the still tender flesh of the wound she had helped to lessen.

The skin was hot, the muscles underneath were tense, and he gave a low groan and a thrust of his hips when her fingers brushed over his hardened nipples.

As her actions grew more bold, his own attentions were growing increasingly eager. His hands left her breasts, traveled down her sides to her legs, and gripped her thighs. She felt his lips pull away form hers, slightly disappointed at the sudden neglect. But his mouth found new skin to explore, hot lips and tongue making their way down her neck. She nearly cried out, choking on a gasp, when his lips kissed their way down the curve of her breast to focus on the pert peak. Her hands abandoned his skin and returned to his hair, holding him to her chest in a silent plea to not stop.

But in that moment, the blaring screech of his substitute badge, along with the persistent beeping of her soul pager, broke the intimate quiet as well as their affections. Each of them started at the sound of the simultaneous alarms, Ichigo's head shot up, and her own eyes flew open.

She looked up at him, their eyes met for a brief second, before his closed and his head fell in defeat against her breast, as he cursed, disgruntled.

"Fuck..."

She lay there, unmoving with Ichigo still above her, even as the alerts continued, willing her beating heart to calm.

"Fuck."

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Leaning against the tree, surrounded by his group of friends, he really didn't hear, nor was he paying much attention to what they had to gossip about. It all seemed pretty random, so he basically tuned them out. In any case, his mind was completely and unavoidably occupied by thoughts and memories of the night before. Specifically, the more pleasant half.

When the hollow alert suddenly started shrieking, it had taken a great deal of his willpower to pull away from Rukia and grab at the incessant substitute badge. His body and mind were a tensed and tangled up knot of desire, sexual want, frustration, and irritation. He had tried his best to collect himself before he went to take on a hollow, but the image that Rukia presented when he turned back around... still sprawled across his bed, hair all mussed about her head, shirt open with her breasts rising and falling as her breathing returned to normal. The sight alone had made his own breath catch. The sight alone was something that he was unlikely to forget as it became permanently emblazoned in his mind.

But she had then risen, clasping her shirt closed, and reached for her still chiming soul pager, ruining the vision.

Which was actually a good thing, because he had shinigami business to focus on. And seeing as how he had only just wielded Zangetsu in his proper form so briefly after such a long gap since the last time he had done so, it was in his best interest to calm himself. At least _that_ part of himself.

He had actually been kinda glad it had been a hollow that had interrupted what was rapidly becoming hot and heavy. And even though he knew that he had to be alert and on guard when he faced the foul spirit, it gave him an opportunity to vent his residual pent up frustration. Because he was pretty sure he would have lost it on anyone who might have interrupted, and while he had no problem dishing revenge on his old man or Kon, he would have definitely earned a serious case of guilt had it been one of his sisters. Particularly Yuzu.

His musings were immediately dispelled when something of substantial weight thumped against his chest and landed in his lap. He looked down to find that the offending object was, in fact, an unpeeled orange.

"Finally," Tatsuki scoffed in exasperation, "You realize you look like an idiot sitting there staring off into space."

He just offered a scowl back, chucking the fruit back at her.

"Just thinking." He muttered in response, feeling like, but hoping that his interrupted thoughts weren't apparent to his group of friends, who had taken a clear interest in the exchange between the orange-thrower and target.

"About Kuchiki, huh?"

Dammit to hell. He wasn't sure what he was more irked about, the fact that Tatsuki was spot on, or the fact that he could feel his face heating up to what was most likely a fluorescent shade of pink, which only and very obviously indicated how accurate she was.

She merely tsk-ed, shaking her head at his physiological response.

"So where is she? I'm surprised she's not here, considering you two have been attached at the hip more than normal lately."

"She's..." he began, but hesitated at the sight of so many of his friends that were being even more uncharacteristically interested in the conversation now that they knew what they were talking about. So he quickly amended his reply to be cautiously vague. Many of his friends still didn't know about shinigami and spirits, so he couldn't really say she'd gone back to Soul Society.

"She had a family emergency."

"Ah." Tastuki new what he was talking about, she knew what the hesitation was for, and she knew what 'family emergency' was code for. A few of the others that were privy to the true nature of Rukia's absence and as such, knew what they were referring to, while the rest of the group remained thankfully none the wiser.

Last night, it had not been even ten minutes after he had pretty much obliterated what had actually turned out to be a pair of hollows, when he and Rukia were heading back only to have Rukia's soul pager go off again. Initially, they both thought it was yet another hollow and had reacted accordingly with understandable exasperation. However, contrary to their assumption, it had been a communications from Soul Society, summoning Rukia for an up-to-date detailed debriefing on the recent supernatural activity within her assigned jurisdiction of Karakura.

She had grudgingly gone back, opening a senkaimon right then and there, though not before assuring him...in a memorably oral fashion, that she would be back the next day.

He sat through the first half of the day, and all through lunch, and the day still felt like it couldn't possibly go by any slower. He knew that it would take longer than the twelve hours she had been gone, but it didn't stop him from wanting her to be back.

Lunch ended not nearly soon enough, and he found himself having a staring contest with the seemingly paralyzed clock, willing it to move faster only to have it tick at an agonizingly slow rate. If he didn't know any better, he could swear that the damn thing was mocking him.

When the end of the day bell finally did ring, he still couldn't feel Rukia's presence. He was beginning to wonder what the hell could take this long. None of the information that she had, had changed at any point between the first reports and her departure last night. Unless, Soul Society had picked up more info. Or had been sitting on more info...which actually wouldn't surprise him.

This new line of thought brought a fresh scowl this face as he left the school grounds, that thankfully deterred any of his friends from asking, demanding, or pestering him into doing anything after classes. He just wanted to get home.

He turned the corner in the direction leading home, when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his back pocket.

His first, immediate thought was that it was Rukia, and he felt a rush of excitement travel throughout his body. But almost just as immediately, a worrisome thought occurred to him that she was going to tell him that she couldn't come back, because he really couldn't think of any other reason for her to text or call. She usually just showed up. However, when he slid open the touch-lock, the person pictured on the phone's illuminated display wasn't Ruki, it was his sister.

"Yuzu? Everything alright?" He couldn't help the concern from leaking into his voice. It was, after all, his little sister's first year of high school.

_"Oh yes! Don't worry, Ichi-nii, everything is fine." _

"Ok, what's up?"

_"I'm going with some friends to get some ice cream at the mall, I just wanted to let you know. I tried to call Daddy but it just went to his voicemail, so he's probably seeing a patient."_

"Ok, thanks for telling me."

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, he was glad that she was being responsible and letting somebody know where she would be.

_"Oh! I almost forgot! Can you stop and pick up some milk? We're out and I won't have enough to get any after ice cream."_

"Yeah, sure. Have fun, call if you need anything."

_"Thank you, Ichi-nii! I will!"_

The phone went silent as the call ended, and he checked his emails just in case before pocketing the device again, and making another turn as he came upon an intersection where he knew there would be a convenience store.

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It was crowded for such a small store. Ichigo had to weave through the numerous patrons to get to the back of the store where the wall of refrigerated cases lined the expanse of the establishment. He glanced vaguely at the people he passed, noting that they were all in line, and wondered what it was that brought them all to this one store. Looking back to the front, he noticed a large and colorful promotional sign advertising something having to do with Don Kanonji.

Rolling his eyes, he pulled open the door to the case holding the containers of milk and pulled out a quart, making sure that it was 2%, before making his way back to the line.

The line, however, he noticed was longer. A lot longer. Which was kind of ridiculous seeing as how it only took like two seconds to pull out a container of milk.

Dammit, he really didn't want to wait forever in the long ass line, and was very tempted to put the milk back and go out of his way to another store, but looking over the isles he noticed what looked like a separate line that moved much faster than the one he was in. He also noticed that the other line was full of patrons carrying purchases, while the line he was behind consisted of empty armed people chattering excitedly about what he gleaned to be a public event centered on the antics of the "spirit hunter." The former was clearly where he needed to be, so he made his way around the back of the end-cap and into the next isle.

He didn't expect it, but as he began to cut across the next isle, he came face to face with shelves of a certain product he normally avoided even glancing at. Go figure. He always thought that if he looked, someone would catch him looking and think he was a pervert. And the last thing he had wanted or needed was for rumors to spread about an orange headed pervert spending too much time looking at condoms.

Yet this time he paused, the very notion of the contraceptives having a new significance as memories of last night with Rukia came sharply to the forefront of his mind. Memories that we're quickly morphing into very possible scenarios that would warrant the use of said protection.

He looked, as inconspicuously as possible, in both directions over his shoulders, finding no one in his immediate vicinity before giving his attention back to the ironically conspicuous boxes that lined the shelves.

With brows furrowed in contemplation, he never before gave much thought as to how many different sizes or types there were. But despite the overwhelming variety, he was beginning to seriously consider buying some. If he and Rukia were getting serious about being more intimate, then it was only responsible that he be prepared.

He knew that he could save himself the money if he just snagged a few from the clinic. But he didn't really want to risk the chance of his sisters or worse yet, his father, catching him stealing a handful of the prophylactics. There was also the chance that his father would notice the missing foils whenever he had to offer some to teenage patients. And he really didn't want to deal with the chaotic fallout of the goat face's antics once he guessed that his son was the one snatching the condoms.

Not wanting to linger, he grabbed a box of one of the popular brands, figuring that mass appeal had to account for something, especially when it came to this. He tucked the box under his arm, hoping for maximum discretion and headed towards the checkout counter.

Rifling though his wallet for the cash, so he could have it in hand and get out as quickly as possible, he heard the worst possible noise he could hear in a situation like this.

"ICHI-GOOOO!"

In an involuntarily instinctive manner, he thrust out his arm to catch Keigo's jaw, and silence the guy's rowdy exclamation with a solid punch. Though, not before realizing such an action would cause the box under his arm to fall to the floor, and rest in the space between his own feet and his collapsed classmate.

Shit.

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There you have it! I hope you guys enjoyed it! Like I said it took me a while to get it where I was happy with it. Let me know what you think of the sort-of-training-fight between Ichigo and Urahara.

Oh! And I thought you guys might get a kick out of the fact that I'm extremely proud that I typed the whole chapter on my iPad! XD

It really doesn't take that much to amuse me, lol ;)

Please review! *hugs*

Mel


	6. Chapter 6

OMG, you guys! I'm SHOCKED! Like seriously _fucking_ SHOCKED! I NEVER would have imagined my little story getting 71 reviews! 71! And Holy frickin' cannoli! I just looked on a whim and this story has gotten 15,000 hits! Not 1,500, but 15,000! *faints from overwhelmingness of it all*

Okay, still seriously overwhelmed, but I think I can carry on in a somewhat intelligible manner! Lol :D

I really want to give everyone who has granted this story this much attention my PROFOUND gratitude! I have done my absolute best to respond to my reviewers, if I have missed anyone, I'm very sorry! I appreciate your feedback so much, and want more than anything to tell you how much it means to me. And thank you to all who have added me and my story to their favorites and alerts! Seriously, I'm gonna start crying at how awesome you all are! Tears of happiness, I assure! ;D

I really wanted to get this chapter out to you guys sooner, but then Tropical Storm Debbie put a damper on things. Literally. Leaky roof. Seriously leaky. And an unfortunately leaky spot right over the toilet... Ironic huh? Dripping water makes you have to take a leak, only to get leaked on... Whilst leaking... I couldn't make this up if I tried! So, new roof, that gets put off due to subsequent thunderstorminess, and now...things are finally underway! New roof! No more leaking while leaking! New chapter! Yay!

And now I have to pee...Lol...

Also, wanted to let you guys know, my chapters were getting a little big for me to handle. The last one was like 8,000 words! And I do NOT type fast. Not to mention, I'm a little OCD. So I'm going to make it a priority to keep it to around 4,000 words , give or take. A good length, and much more manageable for me :)

Without further ado, on with the chapter! And the conclusion of the condoms caper!

This chapter, aside from condom comic relief, is a bit more serious in tone, as things are beginning to unravel with the fullbringers. Don't worry though, Ichigo and Rukia have had some nice sexy times so far ;) and will _definitely _be getting more sexy times in future chapters! But I think it's only fair to Asasininja4827, that he get a lemon free chapter! (Seriously bro, you are a trooper for sticking around and reviewing consistently, _even _when you aren't a big fan of lemons. I can't thank you enough! Major props and virtual hugs to you!)

Disclaimer: Still don't own Bleach.

Random side note: Chris Evans naked. Google. You're welcome. That is all.

Random side note 2: OMG! ComicCon News! SOOOO exciting!

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Ichigo watched in what seemed like stop-motion horror as Keigo, having instantly quieted once the box hit the floor, grasped the container with a perplexed look. As helplessly frozen as he was into inaction, he could only watch as it took merely a few seconds for the realization to register across his peer's face in the form of wide eyes and raised brows.

He expected, with a mounting sense of dread, the boisterous exclamation that he was sure would explode from the guy's mouth. But it never came. Whatever words that would have issued from his friend, sputtered disjointedly in an unintelligible tangle that quietly fizzled into a series of meaningless sounds.

Apparently the shock of the situation was contagious. Even Mizuiro, who stood behind his prostrated companion, watched the brief scene unfold with an expression of unconcealed and slightly impressed astonishment on his face.

"Uh, s-sir?"

He nearly jumped at the unfamiliar voice that cut the unyielding awkwardness.

Turning, he caught sight of the young, scrawny clerk behind the counter, and realized that it was his turn to pay.

The small uncertain utterance from the store employee, was enough to not only break his own tense stillness, it was also enough to break his two classmates of their stupors as well. But before either one of them...well, mostly before Keigo had the chance to act on the newfound collective lucidity, Ichigo beat him to the punch. Literally.

Actually, it was more like a well placed stomp on the shaggy brunette's wrist that elicited a sharp yelp, and ultimately caused him to release the box.

Tossing the jug of milk on the counter with a firm thud, he leaned down, snatched up the box, tossing it on the counter as well, and pulled Keigo up roughly by the collar of his shirt.

"One. Fucking. Word. Too anyone. And I will kill you and personally make sure Ikkaku is the one who hauls your ass to Soul Society."

Ichigo conveyed his threat with such conviction, that Keigo visibly paled, and Mizuiro stood mouth agape. He was pretty sure that he'd never been so blatantly threatening to anyone other than an enemy. His two friends before him looked genuinely astounded.

Good. They needed to take him seriously. Not that he would ever do any such thing to any of his friends...no matter how tempting it might be... but they didn't need to know that.

Turning back to the counter, he slapped enough money on its surface to cover his purchase, along with the box, and fixed the cashier with a formidable glare. He just wanted to pay for his shit and get the fuck out of the store. His hope of carrying on about his task with discretion was effectively shot in the ass, and he just wanted to get to the safe solitude of his own home, and his own room.

The cashier was thankfully hasty about his task, and with a shaky hand, handed Ichigo the change and a bag containing his purchases. To which he took in equal haste and turned to make a beeline for the exit, passing by Mizuiro and the newly uprighted Keigo.

He nearly made it to the corner of the street, when he heard his name being called again.

"H-hey wait up, Ichigo!"

He really didn't want to, so he kept on walking purposefully. Maybe they would think he hadn't heard them. But the staccato of rapid steps grew louder in his ears as they, no doubt, ran to catch up with him.

"Dude! Since when did you start buying rubbers?"

Of course the loudmouth had to exclaim such an unmistakable inquiry just as a young mother was pushing her kid-filled stroller along in the opposite direction. And even if he tried, Ichigo couldn't miss the scandalized and disgusted expression that was cast his way, before the woman picked up her pace in a hurry to put distance between him and her offspring.

Fantastic.

Now all the stay-at-home-wives had something to gossip about at the playground while their kids ran around play-fighting on the jungle gym. The orange-haired deviant who just started buying condoms. Because seriously, how many orange-haired young men were there in Karakura.

"And holy shit dude! You've been gettin' some and didn't say anything?"

Apparently, the guy just didn't know when to quit. Ichigo swore he could distinctly feel the vein in his forehead almost burst from frustration and aggravation. And a newfound urge quelled within him to strangle Asano Keigo and silence his classmate's perpetually and excessively fat mouth once and for all.

Spinning around with furious purpose, he grasped his supposed friend by the collar of his shirt once more and announced - not even needing to raise his voice - each syllable sliding between his gritted teeth, directly and clearly, "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

However, despite his efforts to get him to drop the subject and actually shut the fuck up, it was taken more as 'quiet the fuck down', as Keigo lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper.

"C'mon man, who is it?"

"None of your damn business!"

"Aha! So you don't deny it!"

At that point, Ichigo could only angrily scoff in exasperation, and it was Mizuiro who spoke up instead.

"Why would he buy condoms, but then deny using them? And I believe it is most likely Kuchiki-san."

He shot a glare at the other young man.

"For real?" Keigo started with a surprised raise of his brow.

Though, that same brow furrowed a moment later in contemplation, a feat not commonly practiced by the loudmouth on a regular basis.

"Don't get me wrong, I really like Rukia-chan. She's great and beautiful and all... but she's also kinda...dead." Keigo finished with a half confused, half weirded-out expression on his face.

"And you're about to be dead if you don't drop it."

"Fine, man." the loudmouth placated, raising his hands in a gesture of 'no offense'.

Though, offense was taken. And Ichigo couldn't help the new onslaught of questions that began popping up in his mind.

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If he wasn't still so pissed at Urahara, he would have made a quick detour and headed over to the Shoten just as soon as he parted ways with Keigo and Mizuiro. Damn those two for putting stupid ass doubts in his mind. Now he needed to talk to someone, to ask questions. He needed to know what kind of repercussions there were if he and Rukia took things to the next level. Unfortunately, there was a major shortage on potential advisors, considering the nature of his concerns.

He could have asked Yoruichi, but the last time she helped him with anything she teased him relentlessly over his embarrassment at seeing her naked. To go to her with something like this would just be adding fuel to the proverbial fire.

Besides, the weight from the plastic bag in his hands reminded him that he really needed to get home before the milk spoiled. And being reprimanded by Yuzu was enough to make him feel like the worst failure ever.

So he continued home, stopping only briefly to stuff the box of condoms securely in the dark safety of his school bag. There shouldn't be anyone home yet - Karin had soccer, Yuzu went to the mall, and his father should still be seeing patients. But if someone was there, he didn't want to have to explain the second item in the bag.

It also surreptitiously crossed his mind, that this whole endeavor to be responsible and private at the same time, was a lot of work.

When he finally arrived home and entered the door as quietly as possible, he was relieved to find that it was quiet and still.

After the afternoon he just had, it was definitely a weight off his shoulders to not run into anymore hassle. So, he took in a deep breath, as method of dispelling any further tension that had locked his body into its 'fight-or-flight' mechanism, and just enjoyed the sense of complete and unassuming solitude.

That was until he caught the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke.

Shit.

There was only one person he knew that smoked. Well, smoked cigarettes that is. He knew several people that liked smoking pipes, but that was an altogether different smell. A much sweeter smell, than the distinguishable and chemical aroma left in the wake of a lit cigarette.

Walking further into his home, he peered around the corner that was just on the other side of the kitchen, and found that one person seated dejectedly with his back towards him. A half empty pack of smokes sat on the table next to said individual, as well as a half full ashtray.

His old man didn't smoke often, abstaining from the activity for the most part thanks to the urging from his mother. Even after she...was gone, his father kept that promise. Well, he did his best. There were a few times Ichigo could remember when he would give in, and those times...it was only something the old man would resort to when he was feeling particularly hopeless.

It was in that moment, when he was remembering the rare times that his father would be so despondent - so unlike his usual crazy ass self - that Ichigo realized that the elder man's current mood was probably most definitely linked to what he'd overheard between the two former captains the day before.

He still didn't know what it was that could make his father so miserably sullen. But whatever it was, he knew that it had something to do with him. Something that he was hiding.

The old man must have sensed him standing there, because he looked over his shoulder, startled shame evident on his face, before he turned back to stare at whatever he'd been staring at before.

"How long have you been standing there?"

Ichigo couldn't help but frown at the question. That was the sort of question you asked when someone feels like they've been caught.

"Just got home."

There was a barely perceptible release of tension from the old man's shoulders that gave Ichigo the impression that he felt relieved. He also noticed his father's line of sight shift up to the poster of his mother on the wall. Knowing the man's habit of talking to the poster - in good mood, but also at times like this - it finally clicked in his head that he was probably talking to his mother. His relief being that Ichigo didn't hear.

With a heavy sigh, Ichigo pushed away from the wall and made his way to the kitchen to put the milk in the fridge. When he turned back, a glint of something shiny caught his eye, and upon quick but closer scrutiny, he discerned that it was a ring. And since the old man still wore his wedding band, he had a good guess who's ring it was.

"You better open some windows. Air this place out."

He didn't need to press further, his implication that Yuzu would be upset over the smell of cigarette smoke abundantly apparent in his suggestion. The old man simply nodded, stamping out the lit cig in the shallow bowl of the ashtray, before getting up and actually doing what Ichigo suggested.

Not knowing what else to say...and partly knowing that his father didn't seem to be in a particularly forthcoming mood, Ichigo turned and headed up to his room. His father's uncharacteristically subdued behavior, another thing weighing on his mind.

He leaned against his door after shutting it behind him.

Damn. He knew deep down that all kinds of crazy came along with the powers that he craved so badly. And it kind of pissed him off. He didn't mind the occasional hollow, or sending a lost soul off to Soul Society. He could pay his dues, if it meant that he would be able to see the one person who understood him more completely than anyone ever could.

But things were really starting to feel like they were spiraling into another version of the fucking-bat-shit-crazy that had lost him the powers he relied on in the first place.

The worst part was, that he had a feeling that it all revolved around him somehow. Or at least his powers.

He didn't see it at first. He usually doesn't see things until they are practically in his face. But when the crazy starts to creep up closer and closer to his life and loved ones, it's hard _not _to notice.

Like how some stranger pops into his life one day, claiming that he can help him reclaim his lost powers.

Yeah, he now acknowledged that he was admittedly won over by Ginjou and his ragtag crew. It was kind of hard not to be, especially when it was with their help that he was able to start seeing the world that he'd been completely blind to for almost two years.

But that didn't mean that he forgot about the way Ginjou went about getting his attention in the first place.

He didn't forget the picture of his father. Or the fact that the man knew way too much about his family than a stranger should know. But Ichigo was always one to give the benefit of the doubt. Thankfully, Rukia had come back into his life and helped him see that there is no benefit in putting aside doubts.

And lately, doubts revolving around the group of fullbringers were multiplying with tenacity.

Ginjou already knew about his family. He _really_ didn't want him find out the truth about Rukia. Last time he trained with him, the man was a bit too curious about her for Ichigo's liking.

He was also a bit too eager about Ichigo getting his powers back. He had gotten several texts from the guy earlier that day, going on about meeting up for more training. But he didn't answer them, partly because he just trained with him a week ago- and 'training' with Urahara since then had mentally worn him out- and partly because he needed time to actually pass his last year of high school.

And anyways, aside from his sister's call, the only call or text he wanted to answer was Rukia's.

Rukia.

He was starting to get really worried. A simple debriefing shouldn't have taken this long. He'd been through plenty, so he knew it shouldn't, and his were always complicated.

Raking a hand through his hair, he was starting to feel overwhelmed at how the number of things that were worrying him, increased exponentially in the time since he left the store and the time he got home. It was making him antsy and angry. Not to mention he felt a helluva headache forming behind his temples.

Shuffling over to his bed, he tossed his bag on top of his desk and slumped on the bed. He was ready to fall back onto his pillow and just...not think for once. Or at least try to, but the sound of something falling off his desk and landing with a muffled, paper-y crunch next to his bed roused his attention.

He looked over to see that his bag teetered on the edge of the desk and that it was slightly opened from where he stuffed the box of condoms inside. He also noticed that the box was not currently in the bag, and with a brief rise of panic, looked down to find that it had landed in his room and not anywhere for others to find.

It was already all kinds of hell that Keigo discovered him actually _purchasing_ the box. He was pretty sure he would cease to exist if his family discovered the damn box lying, accidentally abandoned, somewhere between the front door and his room.

The box in question had, in fact, landed near his bed. In the space between the bed and his desk. On top of a different bag that he had no recollection of leaving there. Picking up the box, he absentmindedly deposited it on the desk again, his curiosity about the mysterious bag overriding any other concerns.

When he got a better look at the bag, he vaguely remembered Yoruichi handing it to Rukia before they left the night before. He definitely remembered Rukia carrying it with her on the way home. Though it was probably quickly forgotten by his bed when they...

The memory made his face go hot. Which was kind of ridiculous, seeing as how he was sitting alone in his room. But still.

Opening the bag, he was understandably surprised to see a colorful assortment of feminine undergarments. He picked one up, a particularly lacy one, and swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.

So much for trying to relax.

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"You need to calm down, Rukia."

She scoffed with vehemence, though quickly regretted her actions. Ukitake-taicho was always kind and respectful of her. He didn't deserve the anger and frustration with which she lashed out. But she couldn't help the vexation that clouded her mind.

The root of it all stemmed from the moment she arrived in Soul Society and was hastily whisked away to a captain's meeting. It was enough to set her on edge from the very beginning.

She had been prepared to give a situational briefing to her captain and then return in time to attend the that day's classes. She never anticipated being brought in to give her brief account, to all the captains and lieutenants no less, only to have them divulge that they knew more than she did. Far more.

"I know you are upset," he started.

She was beyond upset. And she wasn't one to let her emotions run away with her. She was a Kuchiki. Even adopted, she had persisted through many decades of suppressing all that would lead her emotions to cloud her actions.

At first it had been a mechanism of ascribing to the Kuchiki way, a way of upholding the dignity that she had been so suddenly cast into. But it soon became a way of keeping her own sanity, of not lashing out - the way she very much wanted to - at the very same clan that barely tolerated her.

There were only a handful of times in which she let her emotions get the best of her. But even those times, her emotional output had been restrained by her own volition. And she tried to remember that now. She couldn't loose her head, it would only make things worse.

But after what she had learned - and after being prevented from doing anything, especially being prevented from warning Ichigo - her anxiety was winning her internal war.

"Your worry is only going to hinder you," her taicho continued, his expression understanding, and she felt even more guilty for finding it to be annoyingly so.

Her patience, however, was quickly being overwhelmed by her mounting frustration. But just as she was about to harshly respond again to her captain in a manner, not only unbefitting, but that would also cause her shame, the older shinigami surprised her.

"And you need your head clear, if you are going back to Karakura."

She was poised with a retort hanging on the edge of her tongue, but it fell short, confused speechlessness winning out.

When she did finally regain her ability to articulate words, they came out in an incredulous exclamation.

"B-but, I've been pulled from active duty in the Living World!"

She searched her captain's face for any sign of a joke, as if his expression alone would belay any such mischief. He simply smiled, only kindness and compassion in his gaze.

"Only because you are not a seated officer."

Her frustration returned full-force in the wake of her surprise, as she remembered the order from Captain Yamamoto himself. Despite the fact that Rukia had more experience in Karakura than many and most seated officers - her station, or lack of, is what ultimately determined the situation.

She had tried to argue her position. Tried to assert her qualifications, not only in the far greater knowledge she possessed of the area and of Ichigo himself, but also in her capabilities as a shinigami. She was stronger than most seated officers and would be a lieutenant herself, but was held back. And everyone knew why that was so, and the responsible party.

"They could at least send Renji..." she protested, even though Ukitake-taicho gave her no reason to, "or Madarame and Ayasegawa..."

She met her taicho's gaze, but looked away when he seemed to study her thoughtfully.

"I believe the head captain merely wished to avoid sending any representative of Soul Society that could be a distraction to Ichigo. The young man does have a penchant for putting himself at risk for the sake of others."

It was true. And the closer Ichigo was to someone, the more he would risk. She had witnessed that nerve-wracking quality of his the first time she ever met him, when he risked himself before that hollow for the sake of his sisters, with absolutely nothing to defend himself.

"But, unlike the head captain, I feel that Ichigo is strongest when his loved ones are closest," he continued, "which is why I am going to send you back."

Surprise and confusion fought for supremacy in her mind due to what Ukitake-taicho just said. She wasn't sure what was more surprising - that he was sending her back, or his implication that he considered her one of Ichigo's loved ones.

The thought of Ichigo loving her was just too overwhelming at a time like this. Particularly for someone like her, who had never truly felt love, so she had no idea how to recognize it, much less reconcile it with her own feelings. And particularly now, when all she wanted to do was get back to Karakura to _warn _him about the danger he was in.

"But I'm not a seated officer," she reasserted weakly.

He smiled then, a knowing smile.

And before she could even get into the possibilities of her being apprehended or the fire her captain would come under for violating a direct order from the top - even the assured mayhem that would trickle down and reach Ichigo when he desperately didn't need any more - a familiar voice sounded behind her.

"You will be."

Just when she thought she couldn't possibly be more shocked from everything she'd learned since her abrupt arrival back to Soul Society, she was proven wrong.

"Nii-sama?"

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"Shit."

Ichigo woke up with a start, breathing heavy, and in a cold sweat. The events of the dream-turned-nightmare very fresh in his mind.

It hadn't been easy, trying to relax - much less catch some sleep - after discovering the bag of lingerie. It was even harder, after imagining Rukia in such a decidedly sexy state of undress. Especially imagining her in nothing but that lace bra. The fucking see-through one.

His traitorous mind had persuaded his body into the fully erect conclusion that any form of relaxation, would only come after he found release. Fast, hard, messy release.

All the tension that had built over the day, left his body as he came. And he had fallen asleep - pants and boxers pulled down low on his hips - not even bothering to cover himself or clean up.

Usually, after finding the peak to such gratifying stimulation, he was incredibly relaxed and would find especially restful and dreamless sleep soon thereafter.

Not that he would jerk off all the time. He had always felt a bit guilty giving in. It had been for his own peace of mind, not wanting to be some mindless weirdo controlled by his own dick. But ever since he and Rukia had become more intimate, he found himself needing to more often. And the one good thing to come of his self-indulgence, no matter how dirty he felt after, was that he always slept better.

But not now.

He had dreamed this time.

It had started out as a good dream. Operative phrase - started out.

Rukia had been there. So had his family. His friends too - both here and Soul Society. And it played out in a series of pleasant vignettes.

Some amusing, like on the rooftop at Karakura High with Keigo invariably getting a fist to the face. Or family vacations to the beach, and his old man squealing like a little girl as Karin slipped some kind of live, squirmy sea creature down the neck of his shirt.

And those with Rukia...her soft sighs and low moans as he made love to her.

But there was a very apparent shift in the tone of his dreams.

The bright, warmth and comfort of those scenes darkened as everyone that he cared about was hunted down.

Not by the hollows that would normally haunt his nightmares, but by a faceless swordsman. Cutting them down one by one. Slashing indelible marks upon each and every one more deeply than a mortal wound. Scarring their very souls.

If it wasn't terrible enough to watch helplessly as all his loved ones were struck down, his own subconscious conjured up even more horrors, as those scars widened into gaping holes. Eyes blackening. And screeching howls, made all the more eerie by the recognizable voices that laced through each one that pierced through his ears, mind, and heart.

The last thing he saw before waking up, scared shitless, was the all too recognizable glow of yellow irises surrounded by inky black on his own maniacally twisted face.

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Whew! I told you guys it was gonna get serious!

And I hope I did justice to the condom comedy! Ichigo is a pretty serious guy for the most part, so I think his panic would be internal while on the outside he reacts with tempered violence lol!

Also, on a side note:

I really did NOT like what was insinuated about Ukitake with the whole fullbring arc. Mainly because it just seemed like it was thrown in there for the hell of it, and also because there was never really any closure to it either. I don't even know how Kubo, in an effort to bring closure to that plot gopher, would work that into the current arc.

Anywho...

Please let me know what you guys think! If the condom caper was a win or fail, my working Rukia's promotion into the story the way I did (because I really just wanted to have a Byakuya is being an awesome big bro moment), and the nightmare! Or was it just a nightmare? I love hearing from you guys! You keep me on the right track, and make this story better and better! I told you guys, that my writing revolves around you!

Big hugs and loves to all!

Stay awesome until next time!

Mel


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